Locked Paths
by tkb0
Summary: If we ever had to choose between staying in our cruel country and loosing our little sister, we would choose death. But our little sister has already been taken from us. That doesn't mean we're not gonna fight for the choice. We're going to rescue the only thing that makes life worth living, or die trying. Mash-up of Hunger Games and Iron King, with a little Anthem in it. Rated T
1. Prologue

**Locked Paths**

**The re-written version!**

It's spring break, everyone!

Well, at least for me. And the previous day I read this story and realized how crappy it was. So I decided to re-do it. I'll be changing the names of the country and the main character, but that's about it, for now, until I find something else I don't like. And I'll be changing the chapters and making them into a less crappy version of themselves. Oh, and I also changed the summary. If you have any ideas on how I could make the story better or any questions, leave a comment or PM me.

For those of you who are new: Every individual refers to themselves as "We" and saying "I" is very forbidden. This takes place in the future where everyone is equal and all have number like 2-7180 as last names. The cities are divided by hair-color.

The story will pretty much follow the plot of The Iron King, which belongs to Julie Kagawa, but the characters are mine. Except Grimalkin,whom I do not own. Julie Kagawa does. I love him so much I just had to put him in this story!

Book sources I will or might be using:

1. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

2. The Iron King by Julie Kagawa

3. Anthem by Ayn Rand

**Enjoy the story!**

Prologue

Dear Kiana,

I'm really not supposed to share this information with anyone. It's dangerous and could lead to the downfall of the entire country. But I feel you need to know. It will happen to you. I can't tell you who I am right now, and I probably never will, but just know that it's someone who loves and cares for you. You're society is scary right now, and my people have all been confined. So I am telling you this in hopes that you will change it for the better. Please, bear with me.

-a friend


	2. Chapter 1

**1**

We shift uncomfortably in our position in the tree, and gasp in pain as we prick our hand on a slim piece of wood. We lift our hand to inspect the damage and find a small, thin twig embedded in our palm. Sighing, we gently slide the splinter out and shift in our seat some more. When we find a suitable position, we close our eyes for a second and let the cool morning breeze caress our face. We open them again and take in the view. Although, it's not much of a view, all we can see is the trees. If we were to climb higher, we would be able to see the city. But we're not focused on that. No, we're watching the swollen, orange sun rise from behind the trees. We're never usually in the woods this early, but today is September 2nd. The day when a group of fifteen or so babies are born and a whole celebration will take place in honor of welcoming them to this world. And by that, we mean giving them bland or stupid names with numbers. And an extremely loud parade will take place at 9 a.m, interrupting our well deserved peace. So, with that in mind, we snuck out of the house at 5 a.m and into the highly restricted area known as the forest. We'd get in serious trouble if ever caught by the authorities, but our curiosity of nature keeps us coming back. There are no birds in the immediate area, but we hear them chirping away at a distance, signalizing the parade is to arrive soon and that we will have to go to work. The back of our head slams into the bark. Why couldn't we have just one day to ourselves?

"Kiana?"

We jerk up, and steady ourselves so we don't fall out of the tree. We lean over on the branch as far as we can to see who could possibly have followed us out here. Our sister Michelle, who is just three weeks short of their eleventh birthday, stands below the willow tree, twiddling their fingers nervously. A harsh gust of wind engulfs them, pulling their waist length chestnut hair back from their face. They shouldn't be out here for three reasons. One, our Aunt already has qualms about _us_ being out here, and they would flip if they ever knew Michelle follows us. Two, they are at risk of getting their new school gown dirty. And _three_, they don't know how to hide as well as we do, so they could easily be caught by guards.

"Michelle, what are you _doing_ out here?" we cry in slight panic. "You know the authorities scour this place early!"

"Auntie wants you," and with that, they spin on their heel and head back.

Our heart hammers in our chest. How did Aunt Jean know we're out here? Did Michelle sell us out? We couldn't imagine our little sister breaking a promise to anyone.

With a groan, we scale down the fifteen foot willow in a matter of seconds, and trudge behind our sister. The cool breeze now has a chilling aura to it, and it is less pleasant. After a stretch of silence, they speak again.

"We didn't tell. Promise," They say, as we climb over a log in the middle of the path. They don't look at us. "Auntie just wanted us to find you. They said it was important."

Which means we're probably in trouble. Great. We exhale loudly, and look over our shoulder at the sun, which is almost completely out of the trees. It will be time for the parade soon. Goodbye, peace.

"This place is really pretty," Michelle says, startling us. "We can see why you like it out here so much."

They twirl around, but stumble a bit. A laugh escapes our throat, which gets Michelle going, a chipmunk-like giggle erupting from them.

"We used to think that," we say tucking our hair behind our ear. "Until you were born."

They whirl around to look at us, their eyes widening. "Are you serious? We always wanted to look like you. Everyone thinks you're beautiful."

Now it's our turn to be appalled. We are not allowed to look in the mirror more than three times a month, and from what we've seen we're not ugly, but we're anything but beautiful.

We chuckle to cover our shock. "Yeah, right. How could you think we're pretty?"

"All the boys stare at you. Even Patch," They reply matter-of-factly, and we think we hear a hint of bitterness in their voice.

For some reason, it rubs us the wrong way. "Patch doesn't stare at us!"

"They do too. You just don't notice. That's why people only talk to us 'cause they know we're your sister." We see their lower lip wobble slightly, and they take a deep breath.

We've heard Michelle talk like this, but we've never seen them get so upset over it. And when they get upset, we get upset.

We swallow the lump forming in our throat. "Michelle, that's not true," we say in the most soothing voice we can manage.

"Yes, it is," Their voice is steadier now, but they won't look at us.

Neither of us speaks after that, and Michelle increases their speed, leaving us a few ways behind. Our heart sinks. This conversation has upset both of us, we should never have brought it up. But Michelle had started the whole 'Patch stares at you' thing, which is totally untrue. Even if it was, Patch would never be anything more than a friend to us. But even having a friend is another thing on our long list of things that could get us jail time.

After we shake our head to clear it, we call out, "This is taking too long!"

Michelle turns toward us, but before they can say anything, we swoop up behind them and throw them over our shoulder. Michelle shrieks and laughs and we dash out of the forest and towards our house.

XXX

"Where have you been?" Aunt Jean asks, but doesn't look at us as they place the cupboards neatly into the cabinets.

Michelle nudges us, and we sigh and take our place at the small wooden table. "Out."

"Out _where_?" Aunt Jean stops, like a broken machine and turns to look at us, running a hand through their matted black hair. We put our chin in our hands. Lying is useless, they already know where we've been. "In the forest."

They nod tiredly, and go back to putting up the cupboards. "Didn't we tell you not to go out there anymore?"

We bite our lip, making an effort to conceal our aggravation. "It was early when we went out. Besides, no one saw us."

"That's not the point, Kiana!" they slam the cupboard on the table with a loud thud. Both Michelle and we jump, but Aunt Jean continues.

"You can't keep going out there!" their face is tight with worry and frustration. "What if someone does see you? What then? And it doesn't matter how high you climb those trees, because the minute they see you, they'll call alert the authorities, then you'll be shot down with rubber bullets, and you'll be locked up so fast it'll make your head spin!"

Aunt Jean shudders, and buries their head in their hands. After a while, their shoulders start shaking uncontrollably. Michelle circles the table and puts their arm around our aunt.

"Don't cry, Auntie," Michelle said, sadly. "She's really good at hiding. Even we had a hard time finding them."

Aunt Jean sits up and wipes their eyes, which are now not just red from exhaustion. They look up at us with watery blue eyes. "We just don't want them to take you," they whisper, sounding resigned.

_Like they took mother and father_, we think, but don't say out loud. Instead, we make our way towards Aunt Jean and put a hand on their shoulder.

"We," we swallow and force ourselves to continue. "We won't go out there again. Promise," As soon as we say the words, our heart crumbles in our chest and turns to dust.

Aunt Jean stands up. "Good," they say breathlessly. They squeeze our hand and send us a weary smile. "The last thing we need is a bunch of guards breaking down our door, right?" They ruffle Michelle's hair, and they giggle, but we can't bring ourselves to be happy.

The loud _dong_ of the grandfather clock signals it's time for work, and for Michelle to head to school. We haven't been to school since we were fifteen, which was about a year ago. They teach us basic mathematics and other things, but mainly hammer into our heads the devastating war that took place years ago, and how the survivors formed our great country, Equality, where everyone is the same. Now, we are all at 'peace'.

"Time to get ready," our aunt says, and begins fixing Michelle's hair. We exhale and head up the stairs to our room, happy to leave the tension filled kitchen.

Our room says one thing: Bland. Snow colored walls with a mirror, a dresser, and a brown bed. But everyone's room in Tan Hills is like this. Except maybe Tan Central. We don't know what they're like there. We open our closet and yank our work clothes off the hangar. Brown jacket and slacks with a white t-shirt with a blue sun logo on it. Most of the White Kingdom's-the city that rules our whole country- power is solar reliant, and our job is to fix the solar panels that get broken. Sucks, but the job was given to us. After making sure our outfit is in good condition, we make our way to the small mirror and grab a scrunchie and tie the waterfall of ink away from our face, so it no longer covers one of our honey-colored eyes. We head back downstairs, while also noting the sounds of clashing and drumming from the parade, ugh, and rush toward the door.

"Wait," we turn to Aunt Jean, holding a bagel on a plate. "Don't you want breakfast?"

"No thanks," we wave them off, keeping our eye on the clock.

"Bye," our eyes meet Michelle's, who looks like they want to hug us, though we both know that's forbidden.

We smile at them. "Bye," and push the door open into the crisp atmosphere of our neighborhood.

We hear the sounds of the parade fading away, and know it has already passed. Reluctantly, we stretch our hand out towards the road, our teeth clenched in anticipation for the bus that will transport us downtown. When we hear the horn in the distance and the sound of wheels, we shut our eyes and stretch our arm out further.

And we wait.

And wait.

_Whoosh!_ The impact of the metal bar dents the bones in our hand as the bus rushes by, and we strain against the wind in order to pull ourselves in the bus and shut the door.

**End of Chapter 1**


	3. Chapter 2

**2**

We've never been fond of the bus. It always gives us a horrid stomach ache. It reeks of exhaust and mildew, and the ceiling lights flicker occasionally, capable of giving anyone a seizure. Even when the rough, cracked roads of our neighborhood disappear and the road turns smooth as we delve deeper into downtown, the small houses becoming tall charcoal brick buildings and propaganda flashing on the billboards, we still feel like we might throw up.

Patch did not catch the bus today, which is strange, because it's either a bus, or walk. Half of us is relieved. Thanks to our nosy sister, we won't want to face them with the staring thing in mind. It's funny, because once we turn eighteen and move out of the house, there is a huge chance we will be assigned to marry Patch, and have children. Two is the limit. But we doubt Patch has any romantic feelings toward us. That's illegal, anyway.

Unfortunately, that left us to sit next to Clare 8-9172, a girl who is still in their first year at the factory. Also our neighbor. Their bubbly and upbeat demeanor drops them straight in the annoying category, and normally someone overly friendly like themselves would get imprisoned. But everyone assumes they are mentally unstable upon seeing their mother shot down for a crime we don't remember. It was many years ago. So whenever they fix those unyielding friendly eyes on us, we just try to remember it's their way of covering up years of pain and solitude. Like right now, when they are chattering away about whatever, we try to pretend we're listening, with an occasional smile and nod.

"Well, do you?"

Our head whips toward them. "Hmm?"

They give us a mock annoyed look, and continue.

"We were asking if you remembered your Infant Ceremony. We remember _every single detail_. Which is weird, 'cause we were like, a baby. Like when all those people were staring at us, and we, like, kinda wet our pants. Oh, and do you know what our parents did? Huh? Our father's face was _so_ red and our mother- Oh, mother.."

By that time, our brain is so overwhelmed, we are taken aback when Clare starts crying. They put their head in their hands and start whimpering loudly.

People near us start to turn their heads to look, increasing our panic.

_Darn, Clare. You're making a scene! Quit crying! _We consider putting a hand on their shoulder, but dismiss the thought. We have enough crimes on our list. We don't need to add touching as one of them.

"Clare?" We bend down and try to get their attention. "Are you okay?"

They sit up immediately and dry their eyes. "We-we're alright. No big deal!" They try their best to put on a huge smile.

It's not that we don't like Clare, it's just... They're nuts.

"So, what about your ceremony? Do you remember yours?" Their usual happy tone is back.

To be honest, not really. Just a bunch of loud noises flood our mind. And six years afterward, our parents disappear

We try to speak, but our throat feels raw, so we just shake our head.

"Didn't they, like, die? 'Cause we stopped seeing them when you were seven."

"Clare, please," we say in a tired voice. We _hated_ when people talked about our parents. "We don't want to-"

"Omygosh! You think the government killed them? 'Cause we used to see a lot of guards come to your house before, and when your parents disappeared, the guards stopped coming. What did they do? Were they showing too much affection or-"

We press our arm into Clare's chest, cutting them off.

"Do _not_," we hiss, ignoring the way their eyes widen in fear. "Talk about our parents. It's none of your business."

We yank our arm away, and take a deep, shuddering breath, not looking at Clare.

Suddenly, the bus screeches to a stop. The big, burly man jumps from the drivers seat and walks down the isle to glower at us.

"Miss," the man says in a low voice. "There is a transgression against yelling at your peers. Don't you know how much trouble you could get into for doing that?!" They pull out a notepad. "What's your name?"

"Kiana 2-7180," we mutter, staring at the floor.

Okay, lets just fast forward to the part where they throw us off the bus and we have to walk the rest of the way through the busy city.

XXX

"Late," Miranda, our 23-year old station instructor, steps in front of us when we enter the building. "Name."

We sigh, and cross our arms. "Kiana 2-7180."

They scan the clip board, looking for our name. Miranda structure always perplexed us. Even with their slim frame, their muscles make their uniform tighter. Their sharp, angular face tells you they are not to be messed with.

"Alright, Kiana. Why are you late?" they narrow their black eyes at us.

Goosebumps start to form on our arms and we rub them rapidly. Why is it so cold in here? "We got thrown off the bus. Please let us through, Miranda. We're not in a good mood, today."

Miranda barks a laugh. "Right. Just 'cause you're in a bad mood, we're gonna bend the rules?" They cross their arms. "We don't think so."

"Come on, Mira, let them through," Patch saunters up to us. They raise their eyebrow so high it almost disappears into their shiny dark hair. "The day is gloomy enough, try to shed some light onto it for once."

Miranda scowls at them. "Don't call us Mira. And shouldn't you be at your station?"

Patch smirks. "Do you really want to explain to the other instructors why a worker was late on _your_ watch?"

Miranda growls, then digs in their bag and pulls out a silver cuff. They clamp it onto our wrist. "We're watching you, 2-7180." And with that, they stomp away.

We let out the breath we've been holding and follow patch to our work table. "Thanks," we murmur.

"Don't mention it. What happened to you?" Patch asks as soon as we grab our tool belt and begin working on a satellite.

We shoot them an annoyed look. "Didn't you hear? We got thrown off the bus!"

Patch throws their hands up in surrender, eyes widening. "Hey, sorry, snappy pants. Just asking."

We sigh and grab our screwdriver. "Sorry."

Patch nods and lowers their voice under the watchful eyes of the instructors. "What happened?"

We slam the screwdriver down and look into their dark emerald eyes. Our mind flits back to what Michelle had said. Patch can't possibly have any feelings toward us. They're more of a big brother than anything.

We look around, and find Clare working on a panel a few ways away. "We yelled at Clare. We didn't mean to, they just kept _talking about_-"

"Your parents," Patch's eyebrows crease in concern. They start tweaking something in the panel. "What did they do anyway?"

"We don't know," we say in an emotionless tone. "Aunt Jean never told us. They left the house one day and never came back."

Patch is silent for a moment, unsure what to say. Then, they shrug. "Well the ceremony is stupid, anyway," they put a hand on our shoulder. "And if you disapprove of it, they probably would have."

"Quiet!" We hiss, pushing their hand away. "the security guards will hear you!

And we're not supposed to touch, remember?"

They blush and step away. "Oh..Sorry."

Why are they blushing? Embarrassment? We doubt that is what is making our heart pound so furiously.

Just then, our X phone starts beeping. We pull it out of our pocket and press a button. Holographic words appear in the air.

_Hey, sis! Just got home and wanted to tell you we got here safely. Can't wait till you get home!_

The next two words blow our mind._Love you!_

We quickly pound the exit button, and the hologram vanishes. We take deep breaths to calm our racing heart. You are not supposed to say "Love you" to anyone. Ever. Michelle _knew_ that! What were they thinking?!

Patch is staring at us in shock.

We jab a finger in their direction. "Never say _anything_ to _anyone_." If Patch were to tell on our sister, they would get in serious trouble. But, Patch wouldn't do that.

Their serious expression turns into a smirk. We can't hide our grin either. Michelle loves _love_ us.

Our thoughts of our sister are snatched away by an outburst: "Hey, what do you

think you're doing touching our screwdriver?!"

It's Scott 5-9088. Hot tempered 17-year-old.

"S-sorry! We just thought it was ours!" Clare.

"You think it's funny touching other people's stuff?!"

We turn to see Scott towering over poor Clare, their face crimson, the group behind them have eager looks on their faces. Ready to see a fight.

Natalis, an instructor in charge of keeping everything running smoothly, hurries over to them, heels clicking over the tiles.

"Excuse me," The woman says, "Please return to your work area immediately."

"Excuse me," Scott snarls, "but this is none of your business!"

And with that, they backhand the woman, and they fall to the ground, sprawled on the floor in shock. Other instructors run to help just stands there, a shocked expression on their face.

Scott cracks their knuckles. "Let's see if you can take stuff with broken arms."

Clare looks like their about to cry, and back away. Half of us is still mad at Clare, but when we look around, no one looks willing to help them.

Gathering our courage, we start forward, but Patch catches our arm.

They shake their head. "Don't."

"We have to do something!"

"No, you don't," they give us a scolding look. "Let the instructors take care of it."

Conflicted, we look back at Scott and Clare. Scott has grabbed Clare's arm, and they cry out. The instructors try to pull them apart, but to no avail.

We wrench our hand away, and start toward the commotion. "_Hey_!"

Scott, Clare, and everyone else turns toward us.

"Oh, hey, it's the orphan!" Scott sneers.

Our face becomes hot. We were _not_ orphans just because our parents weren't here!

Fuming, we walk up next to Clare, and look Scott in the eye. "Knock it off."

Scott's furious expression turns into a smirk. "Or what?" they laugh.

We hate it when people laugh at us. We may be tall, but we're incredibly skinny,

which gives people the impression that we're weak.

"Kiana!" We hear Patch's voice behind us. "What are you doing?"

We look back for half a second, and Scott takes the opportunity to run to us and tackle us, pinning us to the ground and knocking the breath from our lungs. They deliver

a punch to our left jaw, and our mouth starts to bleed a little, but we don't cry

out. Another punch hits our nose, and it gushes with blood. We kick them off us, and roll over so we're on top of them, and rake their face with our nails, and blood starts to trickle down their face. They drive a punch to our throat and we start to

choke. No one intervenes. Scott's 'acquaintances' scream, "Kill them Scott!" and "Teach them a lesson!" Most people stay silent, watching in horror. Someone finally shouts, "_Enough!_" And Scott backhands us, knocking us off them. Our head is spinning, red lights dancing around our vision. Someone helps us up, but we can't tell who. A mean looking male instructor stomps over to us all.

"Do either of you have any shame!" They yell, "Fighting is foolish and self serving, strictly against the beliefs of this nation! Once the government gets wind of this, you _both_ will be severely punished!"

We wipe our mouth with our hand. "The White Kingdom never has to know-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence young lady," Natalis glares at us, daring us to continue. "The White Kingdom must know of every transgression, even in Tan Hills. We're afraid we will have to suspend you."

"What?" Patch yells. "You can't suspend Kiana. It was _their_ fault!" They point at

Scott, who flicks their shoulder-length dark hair out of their eyes and glares at us.

"This is none of your concern, 3-6594, and our decision is final," The male instructor points at us, and Scott. "Pack your belongings, you're going home."

The bus ride is long and quiet, which is not unusual. It is very rude to speak out loud,so people have learned the art of talking quietly. Now, there are no teenagers on this bus, just adults. And us. Fortunately, Aunt Jean is at work, and won't be back until 7:00. So we will have to sit at home with our sister, until our furious aunt arrives. We could hear them scolding us, their eyes red again, their voice stern and laced with fury. "Fighting? That was reckless and stupid! Plus, you could have been killed! What is going on with you?!"

We don't know, really. Our entire life the only crimes we ever committed were going into the woods and having Patch as a friend. But lately, all we can do is break rules.

If we didn't stop soon, we would slip up and get ourselves killed. _Or worse,_ we think with horror,_we could get Michelle and Aunt Jean killed._

Never, ever would we do something so bad it would get our family members killed, we already lost two. Tears form behind our eyelids, but we blink them away. It's our job to make sure our family stays secure, and so far we've done a cruddy job. Especially when we got in trouble on Clare's behalf, _again_.

We might not be too fond of the girl, but a small part of us feels sorry for them.

And relates to them.

They live with just one family member, and do all they can to stay out of trouble. But everyone makes it hard for them, especially when they get teased and bothered at work. We feel a special connection to Clare, even though it pains us to admit it. After all, _we know what it's like to lose someone you care about_.

Not that it matters, what's done is done. The bus stops in front of our house and we exit the bus. We walk toward our tan house-now not _everything_ in Tan Hills is brown. It's not like the grass is. But if an object doesn't at least have a splash of brown or if you wear red or gold, it would be considered treason- and use the key to open it. At least Michelle will be glad to see us.

We step into the house. The kitchen is empty, which is unusual, and the whole house is dead quiet.

"Hello?" we venture, "Michelle?" That's strange, Michelle always comes downstairs to greet us.

No answer. That's strange. Michelle always comes downstairs to greet us.

"Michelle? Are you here?"

The house has a strange, eerie feel to it. Like if you turned a corner, someone might just reach out and grab you.

"Michelle, this isn't funny!" we cry, starting to feel a bit scared.

Then, we see it. Michelle's tiny stuffed rabbit. We are not supposed to have many personal items, but we made it for Michelle when she was six, and told her not to show it to anyone. It's lying on the floor, headless, stuffing spewing out of the opening. No one would tear apart Michelle's only toy. Not even Aunt Jean if she found out. Something is very wrong.

"Michelle!" We drop our things and bolt up the wooden stairs, convinced that something terrible has happened toour little sister. We burst into their room. It's a mess. The mattress and bedspread are turned over, the small mirror cracked. The window. Broken.

We started to hyperventilate. Who could have done this? Why would anyone harm our sister? Our strangled breathing chokes us, and we slide down the wall, shaking in fear and despair. We shut our eyes tight to keep from crying._Calm down, Kiana. Calm down! _We shake our head repeatedly and take long, deep breaths, trying to regain sense of the situation. Michelle has been kidnapped.

Once we pull ourselves back together, we slowly walk back to our room. Everything is still neat and intact, but on our bed a small, rusty chest lay there. It doesn't look like one we've ever seen, like something from back in the day.

Nevertheless, we open it.

**End of Chapter 2**


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

We reach for the largest object in the chest. We examine the large stuffy object and turn it in our hands, then gasp and fling it away. The stuffed rabbit's head bounces off the wall and rolls onto the floor, it's button eyes staring us down. We take a deep breath, and continue digging through the chest.

Murdered rabbit aside, there's no horrifying things in here like we thought.

We pull out a small bronze key, a heart engraved on the handle. Attached to the key

is-a ransom note.

We detach the note and read it with shaking hands.

It reads:

_-Kiana_

_It's so nice to finally be able to communicate with you, my dear._

_We haven't met before, but I know exactly who you are. I've known you your_

_entire life. I know what you're thinking, but I don't mean your sister any harm._

_I just know you'll want to find her, won't you? First you must come and find me._

_Good luck._

_Sincerely,_

_-P_

The note slips out of our sweaty hands and falls to the floor.

"Michelle?" we whisper into the empty room. "You're gone? You're not just hiding somewhere, you're really gone?"

The silence and the note confirms that.

But that just opens the door to more questions. Who wrote this? Who kidnapped them? The words that this person uses are very strange. "I" and "me". It couldn't have been anyone from the cities. Saying either of those two words rewards you with either imprisonment or death. Depending on the mood the government's in.

_The government._

Only the White Kingdom is allowed to say "I", because they set an example for the rest of us. They believe in equality, but feel as though they understand it's true meaning.

They can say I, and still be one.

But what would they want with Michelle? We ponder over it for several moments, then it hits us. _Hey, sis! Just got home and wanted to tell you we got here safely. Can't wait till' you get home! Love you!_

The government got their message and arrested them. Now they want us to find them so we can get arrested, as well. They didn't do it at work because that would cause commotion. They value peace above all else. Part of us was furious with Michelle. We've told them the government gets everyone's feeds! How could they be so careless?

_They're only ten, _we think solemnly, _They probably weren't thinking._

President Vixen, the head-strong woman who rules the country, is obviously behind the arrest. We've never met them, but we watch them on television. Their cruel black eyes, sharp, angular face, extremely white-blond hair always in a neat bun, always scared us when we were younger. We are not scared now, we are angry.

We search the closet and pull out our old, tattered backpack from school. We zip it open and examine it. It seems big enough, but not for a sleeping bag, so we'll have to sleep in the trees. We head downstairs and storm the fridge, taking energy drinks, water, canned foods, and a couple of knives just in case. Of course, we don't have any flash light, or map, but we'll have to manage. Hopefully, we'll run into some person on banishment who will help us out. We also pack the strange key, wondering why we were given it in the first place, and the note, even though we don't want to look at it more than once.

Wait! Aunt Jean!

What are they gonna say when _both _of their children are gone? We decide to write them a note on the tiny fridge, discreetly excluding the fact that we're heading to the White Kingdom.

_-Aunt Jean_

_Sorry we left you here, there's just something we have to take care of. Don't worry, _we bite our lip before continuing, _Michelle is with us. We'll be back as soon as we can._

_-Kiana_

Sticking the note on the fridge, we take a good look at our house, contemplating our decision. Are we really going to do this? Betray the entire country for our sister? Talk about adding to our list of transgression. The authorities would call this the Transgression of Preference and Trespassing. One should not prefer a person over another, and one should never,_ever_, enter another city without authorities permission.

We shake our head, clearing our thoughts. Michelle means _way _more to us than laws.

We pull out our X phone and replay the message again. _Hey, sis! Just got home and wanted to tell you we got here safely. Can't wait till you get home! Love you!_

"Text was sent at approximately 3:45pm," The voice says.

We check the clock. 6:12. The ceremony starts at eight, so while everyone is in one place, we'll take off towards the woods, and hopefully, Ruby Hills. As far as we know, you can only get to the White Kingdom through the three cities. Hopefully, we can evade authorities and breeze right through.

With that in mind, we head for the door, but someone opens it before we do.

"Excuse us, miss," two guards, complete with the grayish-brown uniforms, block the door. The man who spoke first shows us their badge. " You are under arrest."

XXX

House arrest, to be exact.

Commander Chaston, the man who is in charge of the city, has arranged for both us and Scott to be under house arrest, which means we won't be attending the ceremony.

Normally, we wouldn't mind skipping the ceremony for once, but seeing as it was our only means of escape from the city, this is a huge problem.

After lighting the fire place, we start making tea, and ask the guards if they want any. The both shake their heads, eying everything in the house as if there was a bomb about to detonate. Luckily, we hid the note and backpack in a patch in the ceiling we discovered last year.

"You do realize how much trouble you're in, don't you, ma'am?" The man who spoke to us first taps their finger on the table.

"Yes," we say, taking a sip of the tea. We are acting calm, which is really betraying the heart that is jumping around in our chest. If we didn't leave soon, Aunt Jean would be here and we'd really be in hot water. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"It's going to take a lot more than sorry, ma'am." the second guard stood up and paced around the room. "You're lucky the Commander was merciful enough to put you under house arrest rather than imprison or execute you. But seeing as you and that boy are only children, they decided to give you a warning."

We nod and take another sip, not that it will help thaw our insides. But one thing is seriously annoying us. "Our name isn't ma'am."

"We know exactly who you are, Kiana." the first guard smirked, increasing our heart rate. "We have tabs on everyone in this city."

We shiver, and the mug, nearly slips out of our hands. How much do they know about us? We tighten our grip. "Then what are your names?" we ask, keeping our voice steady.

The two guards exchange glances, and the first one mutters, "Considering we're all gonna be here for a while," the man clears their throat. "Our name is General Jackson," they gesture to their partner. "General Harris." The fix us with a glare. "Now if you don't mind, we'll be asking the questions, _ma'am_."

We purse our lips, but say nothing.

Harris goes up the stairs to search our house. We're suddenly glad we cleaned up Michelle's bedroom-and patched up the broken window- so Aunt Jean wouldn't have too much of a heart attack.

"So, what possessed you to lash out at a fellow worker like that?" Jackson raises an eyebrow as they search the kitchen.

We feel uncomfortable with these strangers raiding our house, but swallow our displeasure. "They were about to attack a fellow worker, sir. And they lashed out at an instructor."

Jackson nods. "That boy will be met with consequences soon." we don't know why, but we fear a little for Scott. "Have they acted like that before?"

We groan inwardly and check the clock. 6:41. We _needed _to leave. "Not really, sir. They just always acted rude and hot tempered. We didn't think much of it."

"That boy is starting to feel like a danger to our community. We'll have to alert Commander Chaston later." they turn back to us, and narrow their eyes. "What made you feel like you needed to do anything?"

Because Clare is our friend? No. Because we wanted to pummel Scott? No. Because it helped us get rid of pent up frustration? Possibly.

We shrug. "No one else was doing anything. Scott could have seriously hurt someone."

They stare at us for a while, and it makes us feel naked for some reason, even though we're wearing the same clothes we've worn all day. "That attitude is going to get you in a lot of trouble someday," they say with a sigh.

Before we can ask what that means, Harris tromps down the stairs, a thoughtful expression on their face.

"Find anything?" Jackson asks.

"Why is the bedroom window patched up?" Harris narrows their eyes at us, and Jackson fixes us with a suspicious glare.

Uh-Oh. We scramble through our head for an excuse. Finally, we sigh. "Our little sister has muscle spasms and they accidentally threw something out the window," we mutter.

The guards exchange glances again. "If you're lying to us," Harris growls.

We put the mug down. "We're not! Promise."

"Where is your sister, anyway?" Jackson asks, suspiciously.

Dead, or in captivity. We shove the first part out of our mind. "Their school is having an orientation. They'll be back before the ceremony." We fake a yawn and head upstairs, but both guards stop us.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jackson glares at us.

"To bed, is there a law against that?" we ask in an annoyed tone, which enrages them further. "You can wake us before the ceremony starts."

The guards begrudgingly let us pass, and we dash up to our room and shut the door.

_Thank God._

We take huge breaths and try to clear our head, and stare longingly at our bed. We would love to get in it and fall asleep, pretending that Michelle was never kidnapped and that we were never under house arrest. But we can't.

Instead, we grab our supplies out of the patch in the ceiling, careful to make as little noise as possible. We take the sheet off of our bed and open the window. We've heard of people doing this in the old days, and most of the time it worked. But people knew better than to try this now. Apparently not us.

We tie the end of the sheet around a piece of the head board and drop the rest of it out the window. It doesn't quite reach the ground but it's enough for us to jump down.

We listen to see if any of the guards are coming upstairs. Nope. Still chattering downstairs. We carefully climb out the window, and slowly but leisurely scale down the

house. When we reach the end of the sheet, we are about five feet from the ground. Gritting our teeth, we drop down into the grass with a thud, and a dull pain enters our back. Even disoriented, we can hear the guards slowly tromp up the stairs. Slinging our backpack over our shoulder, we dart away from our house, and through the neighborhood, intent on finding Patch.

XXX

Through their kitchen window, we can see Patch's mother hauling a baby upstairs, while Patch goes to wash the dishes. Once they are alone, we quietly tap on the window, effectively getting their attention. Their eyes widen, and they look over their shoulder for a second, before lifting the window.

"Kiana, what are you doing here?" they whisper harshly.

Hot tears spring into our eyes, making Patch's image blurry. "You have to help us, Patch. Michelle's been kidnapped."

Their face pales, and they rake a hand through their hair. After a moment, they pull us in. "What are you talking about?" they ask in a panicked whisper. "Who would possibly want to kidnap your sister? No one would even be able to!"

"Except the White Kingdom," we say grimly. They raise an eyebrow, and we sigh.

"Think about it, Patch. Remember the message?"

Patch thinks for a second, then nods slowly. They look at us with frightened eyes. "You think they got them for that?"

"We _know_," we correct them.

"That's insane. Well, it's nothing new, but why punish a little kid like that?"

We shrug our backpack back on. "We'll ask them for you."

Realization hits them, and they grab our arm in panic. "Kiana are you crazy? The minute they see you, they'll shoot you down!"

"We're planning to make a deal with them before that happens," we explain. "We'll have them arrest us instead of Michelle," though it seems more like we're trying to convince ourselves that that plan will work.

Patch exhales and shakes their head. "You'll have to pass through Ruby and Golden Hills, first. You might not even make it there!"

And that's what we're worried about.

"We're coming with you."

We stare at them in disbelief. "No way. If we get caught, you will, too! And your family-"

"We're not letting you do this on your own," they say sternly. Then, their face softens into a smirk. "Besides, we'll just tell our mother the factory is going on a business trip.

It's against the law to question anything."

Their right about the last part, and very rarely they take us to the different cities to observe other factories. It's always awkward, with everyone looking at us in either awe or contempt.

We look up at Patch for a long time. Finally, we say. "You'll really do this for us?"

"Sure," they shrug. "You're kinda the only person besides our family that doesn't drive us crazy."

We chuckle, but it dies out quickly. We feel like we should repay Patch in someway, but nothing comes into our head. Like some sort of suppressed emotion that doesn't surface. This nation frowns upon any form of gratitude towards a person.

"Patrick?" a voice calls from upstairs. "Everything okay, down there?"

"Yes, mother!" Patch calls back. "Just washing dishes!" They shove us toward the window. "We'll meet you at the ceremony. We've got a sure fire plan to distract everyone long enough to escape." We climb out the window, and they shut it behind us.

Since we can't go back to the house obviously, we take to a tree behind Patch's house and hide there 'till 8:00.

XXX

The sound of the Infant Ceremony is deafening. In town square, there are

people throwing candy and jewelry towards the stage where our great leader, Commander Chaston, will soon make their appearance. Normally, they don't let us have either of those things, but since today is a 'special occasion' they're letting us have as much fun as we could have in this regularly joyless world. There is a huge crowd surrounding the stage, screaming their heads off, awaiting the arrival of the fifteen babies that will be named not by their parents but by the Commander. And tomorrow they'll forget all about them. Near the back of the crowd is us, crossed arms, a sour expression on our face. Having your sister kidnapped doesn't put you in a partying mood. It is getting dark, and we scan the trees for Patch, since they said they wouldn't be in the crowd when we got to the ceremony. No sign of them yet.

"Um, hey, Kiana?"

We turn and see Clare, grinning sheepishly, and we stifle a groan. This night might end in another outburst.

"Look, we just want to say thanks for getting Scott off our back," they say, not looking at us.

"Yeah, sure," we say absentmindedly, still scanning the trees.

Clare fails to notice, their eyes still trained on the ground. "We know we made you mad earlier and we-" they pause for a second. "We're sorry to upset you, but just know we appreciate what you did for us."

"Clare," we say, finally looking at them. Their sea-colored cat eyes meet ours. "It's fine. Just forget it."

Hope lightens their features. "You're not mad?"

Not mad enough to stand there while you get pummeled. We shake our head.

They squeal, and we turn away from them, putting a finger in our ear.

Before they can say anything more, the crowd dies down, and Commander Chaston makes their appearance. Today, they are wearing a dark brown suit, which, in addition with their small beard and oiled down hair, makes the look like someone covered in chocolate. They have the country's symbol on their suit as well. Two joined hands. Symbolizing that our country sticks together although most of them hate each other.

They step up to the microphone and tap it. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. We are glad to see you all here at the 117th Infant Ceremony! Before we begin, let us all join hands and recite the pledge of allegiance."

Reluctantly, we take the hand of both Clare and some random guy to our left, and everyone speaks in unison.

_The safety of this nation depends on the loyalty of it's citizens._

_Individuality be that of the devil, leading us to dark and evil places._

_We stand, as a nation, against selfishness and self-preservation._

_We share one mind, one cause, one perspective._

_We are One._

Possibly for the first time, those words feel bitter in our mouth.

"Now, on to the tradition. As you know, every year we allow fifteen women to give birth to one baby in the fall. The time has come for Tan Hills to welcome these children

to Equality to which they will remain loyal forever."

Everyone claps. To evade suspicion, we join in.

They gesture somewhere off stage. "If you will please bring the children on stage."

The fifteen dark-skinned mothers bring their children on stage in strollers. They all look alike, which we guess is supposed to be the point.

Chaston walks over to the babies, but is stopped when two men in uniforms run up to the stage, followed by a dark haired woman with a panicked expression on their face. Our heart turns to stone. Jackson. Harris. Aunt Jean.

"Excuse us, sir." Jackson says, out of breath. "We are sorry to inform you that Kiana 2- 7180 has escaped from their home!"

A worried murmur spreads across the crowd. Clare looks at us in complete astonishment, and we shrink away from them.

Chaston raises a hand to silence everyone, though their expression is now distressed. "How did this happen?"

Harris speaks next. "They said they were going to bed, sir. But when we went to check on them the window was open and they were gone!"

Aunt Jean just stands there, looking as if they might cry. We wish we could just run through the crowd, assuring them that we are alive.

But that is not a viable option.

Commander Chaston shakes their head. "Are you telling us that you cannot handle a teenage girl?" they whisper in a harsh voice.

"Sorry, sir." the soldiers say in unison.

Chaston sighs and stalks up to the stage. "Miss, 2-7180, if you are here, reveal yourself immediately before drastic measures are taken."

Clare slams their hand on top of our head, discreetly lowering us to the floor. We don't even take time to look at them, for fear of blowing our cover. We feel as if we might throw up.

_Can we just continue the ceremony?! _Never thought we'd ask for that.

When the silence stretches on, Chaston's voice turns stern. "_Miss 2-7180_, if you do not come to the stage in the next five seconds, we will be forced to pick apart every person in this crowd until we find you!"

Someone in front of us turns, and their eyes widens in recognition. They open their mouth to call out.

_Crack! _A loud gunfire pierces the air.

What comes next is chaos. Everyone breaks apart from the crowd, running and begin shouting and pointing their rifles at the trees, searching for the shooter. The mothers usher the babies off stage, and Aunt Jean is escorted off as well, we fear it will be the last time we ever see them. Chaston screams for order, their beady black eyes scanning the crowd. We get on all fours and crawl through the sea of legs, knowing Chaston is trying to single us out. Eventually, we emerge from the crowd, and dash towards the restricted woods, hopping over the fence with ease, as we've had to do it many times. Patch waits for us, their backpack and ours in hand. "How'd you like the main event?" they ask with a mischievous smirk.

"Better late than never," we grumble, checking our bag to make sure we have everything.

"More like just in time," Patch puts the gun they must have swiped from a guard in their backpack. "That was a really close call with Chaston."

Our heart constricted of the thought of how many close calls we would have later on.

"Where are you going?"

We both turn in a flash to see a panicked Clare, curly brown hair in a disarray, peeking through the fence at us.

Patch and we exchange glances, and Patch takes off. We scowl at their retreating form, and turn back to Clare.

"Our sister was stolen, so we-we're going to get them back. Please Clare, don't tell anyone. We have to do this. They're our family!" we plead desperately.

They stay silent and stare at us. Then a flashlight is shined in our direction, and we stumble backwards.

"Go!" Clare says in the most demanding voice we've ever heard from them. "We'll lead them away!"

After a moments hesitation, we mouth a quick, _Thanks_, and follow Patch through the woods and into the night, leaving the only world we've ever known, behind.

**End of Chapter Three**


	5. Chapter 4

**4**

We groan, sitting up in the branch of the tree and wiping the sleep from our eyes.

For a while, we gaze around._What's going on? Why are we in the woods?_ Then, it all comes back to us.

We bite our lip and press our nails into our palm until we feel pain._Don't cry. Don't_

_cry. Don't cry._

Regaining our composure, we glance around and find ourselves uncomfortably closto Patch, still snoring in their position in the tree. We yelp and struggle to untangle ourselves from their grasp, forgetting that we are in an 18ft high tree. On the way down, we receive numerous cuts and scratches from the branches and land with a thump on our backside that surely ruptured our spine. As we sit up and rub our back, Patch calls, "Kiana? What happened?"

We look up at them and try to hide our burning face. "We, er, fell. We're all

right."

They give us a weird look, and scale down the tree with no trouble. We can't

remember when they got so good at climbing. They shrug their backpack on, and hand us ours.

"Okay, so where are we headed now?"

We pull out our map. "If we haven't been sleeping for too long, We're halfway there

and should reach the Ruby Hills in a few hours."

"And what do we do when we get there?"

Our heart clenches in worry. "Hopefully, we can lay low, find some food, and leave before anyone notices us."

Patch perks up. "Okay, well we're not gonna get your sister back by just standing here, are we?"

They skip along the path, then stop when they realize we haven't followed. "Kiana what's wrong?"

We've tried to be strong, bottling up our anger and frustration for Patch's sake and our sanity, but as soon as Patch said "get your sister back" we realized that our metaphorical bottle is on the verge of breaking. What would we do when we found Michelle? We Just take them and run? How would we even _find_ them? The White Kingdom is huge, and packed with security. The guards would shoot us down as soon as they spotted us. If we even got that far. We close our eyes for a second, and see Clare, frantically telling us to run while they divert the guards. They will find out Clare's lie eventually. Then what? They will die.

We blink back burning tears and look at Patch. "What were we thinking, Patch?

We'll never be able to infiltrate that place. The two of us against all of them?

Michelle is probably dead by now." We choke out, our voice hoarse with despair.

Michelle. The little girl who only wanted to be like their sister, who is a criminal. Who always followed them, smiled at them, _loved _them. And that love might have cost them their life.

Patch stomps over to us, a scowl on their face.

"Hey, what kind of quitter talk is that?" They demand. "Sure we're outnumbered,

but who's the one that was afraid we'd never be able to escape the city? You, and

look what we're doing. If we can ditch an entire city of highly trained soldiers, then

we sure as hell can march up to President Vixen and not take no for an answer.

We're getting you're sister back, and we're walking there. You got a problem?!"

We sniffle and stand up taller. "No."

"No, what?" They raise an eyebrow.

"No, sir."

"Say it like you mean it!" They bark at us.

"No sir! Hang on, Michelle! We're coming!" We start sprinting

down the path, and Patch catches up to us and tackles us to the ground,

rolling down a hill, through scattered leaves, laughing all the way down to the bottom. We're still laughing when we've reached the bottom of the hill, and our sides start to hurt.

The laughter dies out, and for a moment, we sit still, waiting for the reprimand to come.

It doesn't come.

"Wow," breathes Patch, wiping their sweaty forehead. "This feels.. different."

"Yes.. We were waiting to..."

"Us too," they give us a lopsided smile.

The next few moments are greeted by silence. Then, we clear our throat.

"What do we do when we find Michelle? Go back

to the city?" Even though we weren't sure we wanted to. It felt.. better out here.

We immediately shove the thought out of our head. That's ridiculous. Tan Hills is our

home.

Patch shrugs and stands up. "If they even let us back in."

We stand up and brush leaves off. "Whatever happens, we'll take full blame." Before they can object we say, " Let's get moving. We want to make it to Ruby Hills by nightfall."

XXX

By late afternoon, we saw it.

The wide, barren clearing with metal parts buried in the earth, that we guess used to

be cars, rusty and forgotten. What little grass remaining is yellow and dying, sparse

patches of vegetation in the rocky ground. Destroyed buildings stabbed into the air like shards of glass. Trees were scattered here and there but they were all sideways

and chopped into oblivion. Large pieces of what we assumed to be the road, were lined down the path. It sends shivers down our spine just looking at it.

Patch stares at the dead city for a long time. "Wow. My mother was right. It's still here."

"We thought this place didn't exist," We whisper, awed by the sight in front

of us.

"That's just what the schools tell us, but since they never let us outside.." they

trail off.

We have never seen anything like this in our entire life. Is _this_ what people did to

their cities back in the day? Did they just..just.. _fight_ over every little disagreement

they had and wrecked each other's cities? Regardless of the casualties and turmoil

that came with it?

We stumble backward, unable to keep our footing, and trip over a sharp piece of metal in the ground. Landing with a thump on our backside.

Patch wordlessly offers a hand, and we take it hauling ourselves up. "Patch," we whisper. "What did they do? What have they _done_?"

"Don't know," Patch turns to us. "But we do know that these guys are the reason

it's like this now."

"Do you think it's to remind us?" we ask hoarsely. Patch knows what we mean.

A few years ago they would show us shots of destroyed cities on TV, to remind us

that this is a result of war. It can kill people. It can destroy everything.

We remember something our Aunt said to us years ago when we asked about it:_Hope is like a spark. Contain it, or it will grow into an inferno you can't control_.

"Should we tell someone? Patch asks quietly.

Bearing what our Aunt said, we shake our head. "Not a good idea. Besides, we can't just turn back, now. We'll get arrested for sure. Then killed!"

"We never thought you would get so paranoid over a bunch of authorities!" Patch snaps. "Don't you go into the woods all the time?!"

"That was for _fun_, Patch. But it's not about fun anymore." And with that we turn on

our heels and march through the forgotten city without looking back.

XXX

The howling began soon after we stopped for lunch.

Patch stops in the middle of the path, and we almost run into them.

"What-" We began to ask, but they hold up a hand, silencing us.

We listen. The eerie echoes of howling slip through the trees, chilling our bones.

We swallow. "That's been going on for hours, now. What's the big deal? We'll just avoid them like we've been doing all day."

"These aren't ordinary wolves, Kiana," They respond. They turn to face us. "How close to Ruby Hills are we?"

We turn back to the map. "About a three miles. What do you mean they're not ordinary wolves?"

"You remember what they told us in school?"

Our mind searches for an explanation. Then we remember that all three cities have wide range security. Highly trained genetically altered wolves that can sniff out intruder a mile away. They don't kill you, unless you resist too much. They bring you to Commander Vincent, the leader of Ruby Hills. And that might be much worse.

Our heart picks up. "So the Ruby Hills security knows we're here?"

"Yes."

We shudder. "Should we run?"

Patch's eyes glow in the moonlight. "Let's just keep our eyes open."

The howling grows more and more frenzied. It seems like they don't

want us snooping around after dark.

For about half an hour, though the howling continued, we went on without incident, but we still carry the sharp knife we took from the kitchen by our side just in case. Then a branch snaps from far away. It is so soft, we barely hear it, but Patch straightens immediately and turns to us with a panicked expression.

"Kiana run!" And they take off leaving us confused.

"Patch?" we call after them.

"Run!" They scream.

So we run.

It takes us a while to catch up with Patch, who has much longer legs than we do, and when we ask them further questions, they don't answer. But we know what's after us, so we keep running.

After a while, our legs grow numb and our knuckles turn white from clenching

the knife.

And then a huge black creature bursts from the trees to our right, knocking Patch to the ground and almost making us trip over them. Thinking fast, we hurl our knife into the beast, knocking it off Patch and killing it instantly. We yank the bloody knife out of the wolf, and Patch gets up and charges after us. It was a hound, bigger than any we'd ever seen with pitch black eyes. The bushes explode and six more monstrous dogs leap onto the path and start chasing us. Darn the redheads!

We tear through the forest, branches and leaves slapping at our face, following

Patch as well as we can, hoping they know where they're going and can lead

us to safety. Behind us, twigs snap, growls echo, and deafening barking grow

louder in our ears. Our breath rasps in our chest, our legs are on fire, but force ourselves to keep moving, knowing that we stumbled or fell, we would be caught.

Through the thickness of the trees, we could make out buildings and blinding lights and many noises. Ruby Hills. Too bad we might never make it. Patch stops in front of a tree and turns to us, panting.

"What are you doing?!" We yell. "Run!"

They kneel down and cup their hands. "Climb up the tree! Hurry!"

"What?!"  
"Just trust me!"

The sounds of pursuit get closer. Wasting no time, we put our foot into Patch's

hands and grasp the closest branch and pull ourselves up. We start to climb while

Patch keeps running. Thankfully, the hounds run straight past the tree and follow

Patch. As we take deep breaths to calm our racing heart, the sounds of pursuit

fade away, and now we are completely alone.

The enormity of what just happened bombards us. Had Patch really

left us here? To fend for ourselves? Was he even gonna come back for

us? Patch, our only friend, had really left us here, to save their own skin...

But our anger is soon replaced with fear. Has Patch been captured by

the wolves? Dis they kill them because they resisted? The more we thought about it, the more it seemed that Patch thought they were saving our lives. But it seemed implausible that they were going to come back for us. We snuggle up in the try branch and try to control our shaking.

"Well,"A voice came from above. "That was interesting."

XXX

We choke back a scream. "Who's there?" We frantically look around, but

it's far too hard to see in the dark. "Show yourself!"

"Who's hiding?" Just then, a large gray (we think) cat jumps from a higher

branch and lands on the one across from us. "I was just watching the show from up here. Good luck finding that boy."

All of our breath leaves us in an instant. "You- you can talk? You're a cat!"

The cat feigns astonishment. "Really? I am?" The cat seemed to roll their eyes.

"You are from the city, right? Tan Hills?"

We cross our arms and glare at the creature. "Yes. And judging by your careless

use of the sacred word, you're from The White Kingdom. But that doesn't explain

why you can talk."

The cat yawned. "Maybe this will clear it up. The White Kingdom was working

on a way to entertain people. They started experimenting on animals to see

if they could give us more human qualities, though I cannot see why. They

enhanced myself so I could speak, but somehow deemed me a failure, and cast

me into the forest to die. What a surprise to see more humans here."

We are taken aback by this new revelation. The White Kingdom would be that

cruel? With our sister being kidnapped and them enhancing innocent animals,

our all powerful government isn't as justifying as we thought.

"T-that's terrible," we whisper.

The cat sighs. "Yes, it is a tragedy. Now come on," The cat starts jumping from branch to branch, which is easy because the trees are so close together.

We stare after them. "What-what do you mean?"

"Do you not want to find your friend?" The cat shot us an annoyed glance.

With all the confusion and talk of mutated animals, we forgot all about Patch.

But this cat is from The White Kingdom. How were we supposed to trust this thing? What if the story was a lie?

"We don't see why we should trust you!" We called.

"You think I want to help the White Kingdom? They sent me into this forest to die, remember? I am in no hurry to do so. Let us go," it trots off again, but stops and turns to us. "I am called Grimalkin. And you are?"

Yes, this was strange, but we have the feeling that this journey is going to

get much stranger.

So we smile and say, "Kiana."

**End of chapter four**


	6. Chapter 5

**5**

Following a genetically enhanced gray cat in the dark of night is a real pain in the, well, you know.

It is near impossible to follow this cat by jumping from tree to tree, but we always

know we are going the right way because we never lose sight of them. Most people would not be able to do this, but our practice of jumping from and climbing trees makes this a walk in the park. Except for having to follow Grimalkin. We constantly

tried to ask questions about the cat. What city they were originally from, how old

they were, how did the White Kingdom capture them. But every time Grim would

say, "It is none of your concern to worry about petty things like that."

But in reality, we knew exactly why they didn't want to talk about it.

It didn't matter, because we're always preoccupied with what could have happened to Patch. It's driving us crazy not knowing if they died or not. Have they been killed by the wolves?

Or did they just save their own skin, and decide that we could just take our

chances on our own?

As we are distracted by these disturbing thoughts, Grimalkin's shrill voice

interrupts us.

"Kiana!" they whisper. "Hide!"

"What?" but it's too late. Twigs snap from below, the trees part, and a

group of people in red clad uniforms spill into view. The guards from Ruby Hills.

"See, we told you one was missing," a female voice hisses. We couldn't tell the

genders because of the helmets they were wearing, so their voices is our best bet.

One of the guards peer closely at us. "It's a girl.. And they're all by themselves?"

We know we should move, but our body has become paralyzed.

"The wolves caught their friend, but what were they doing out here?"

A loud discussion brakes out amongst the guards, but an icy hand has suffocated us.

They killed Patch? We are practically trembling now. We try to scramble away

from them but one of them jabs their gun into our leg.

"Where do you think you're going?" they smirk.

"What's in the backpack, sweetheart?"

"Wait, look at their _hair_!"

Pairs of hands grab us and start to yank us down. We scream and thrash around,

but loose our balance and fall out of the tree.

We struggle to free ourselves from their grasp, but soon they have their guns

pressed into our head.

One of them gets close to our face. "What are you doing here, Tan Girl?! You're

not supposed to cross the border!"

We press our lips together in defiance, and continue to struggle, and they slam

us back on the ground.

"Not gonna say, huh? Very well, we'll see what Commander Vincent wants to

do with you!"

Something strikes us behind our head, making lights explode behind our eyes,

and the angry voices and faces fade into nothing.

XXX

We wake to darkness.

With our horrible headache, we find it hard to concentrate on the fact that our

hands are chained together above our head, and our back to a cold brick wall. There is a door, with a small window with three bars at the top.

We are in a dungeon.

We rack our brain for memories, and recall what the soldiers said about Patch.

Tears threaten to spill down our cheeks, but we hold them back, though we don't know why. What have we got to lose?

The metal door opens, and a not to pleased looking Commander Vincent strolls

in, flanked by two guards. Of course we know what they look like, we see them on

TV all the time. Unlike Chaston, they are clean shaven, with red hair (of course)

and small ice blue eyes, their mouth set in a grim line.

We shrink away from the man as they stride over to us.

They clear their throat, then speak. "Our sources told us that we had an intruder

in our city, and it seems they were right. But we haven't found a brunette in over fifty years," They say, narrowing their eyes at us. "What is your name, girl?"

It takes a few tries for us to squeak out. "Kiana 2-7180."

They nod. "And what reason would you have to dare travel to Ruby Hills without

an authority figure?"

Our heart starts to beat fast. "We, um, we're sorry. We were just looking for our

sister, sir. Th-they were stolen."

They kneel down to our level. "And why did you think they'd be here?"

"Well, no, we were actually trying to get to-"

"And not only that," they interrupt, raising their voice. "But one from the city

is not supposed to care for one over the other. That is called the Transgression of Preference. You do know that don't you?"

We gulp and nod.

"That girl is none of your concern, miss 2-7180. Commander Chaston must know of-"

"They are our concern!" we cry out, knowing we're treading on dangerous

ground but not caring. We are tired, hungry, and two people we care for are possibly dead. We might as well be dead, too. "They're our sister! Please just let us go so we can find them, and we'll never come back!"

Their icy eyes start to burn holes in our skull. "You, miss 2-7180, should best keep

your mouth shut, before saying something you'll regret. You think we will just break

the rules for some young girl who stumbled away from their rightful place? Your

sister probably did something to earn our government's wrath, and they will punish

the girl as they see fit."

Their voice is quiet, which makes this all the more frightening.

Our throat is parched. We swallow. "Is our friend okay?" we ask.

Their expression does not change. "Your friend is being held in the interrogation room. You won't see them again."

They stare at us for a long, long time, until a cold sweat breaks out. Then they stand up, and say, "You have committed many transgressions. There is no place for you in our city. Prepare to be ended in five days."They spin on their heels, flanked by the guards, and leave the room, the door shutting with a loud bang that bounced off the walls.

Our mind is plagued by the words all night. _There is no place for you in our city._

XXX

Five days is a long time when you're in captivity.

We'll never be able to tell, since it is hard to keep track of time. They do let us get exercise once in a while, which means walking around in the cell for about

20 minutes, and they serve us three meals a day. We wonder why it is relevant. We're going to be killed anyway, though we're not sure how, no one will tell us anything.

In fact, it's like everyone here is afraid of us, probably since some of them haven't

seen a brunette before. They let us shower occasionally, and surprisingly, watch

TV even though it's just a bunch of propaganda. If we weren't getting murdered, this wouldn't be so bad. Thankfully, Vincent never showed up in our cell again.

Someone else did.

On the night of the third day, the metal door creaks open, and blinding light

spills out of the doorway, making our eyes hurt since we aren't accustomed to

the brightness since it's always dark in the cell. A girl who looks no older than

seventeen strolls in with a tray of casserole that we assume to be our dinner.

Their crimson hair is in a braid down their back, and they are wearing a

red button up shirt and a frilly skirt. Strange, since usually a man brings us our dinner. Their innocent turquoise eyes regard us with burning curiosity. Yep, they've never seen a brunette before.

"H-here," they set the tray on the floor and unlock our chains. While we pick up

the fork and start eating, they reach over and stroke our hair. We stop chewing,

"Do you mind?"

"Oh sorry!" they yank their hand back and red seeps into their pale cheeks. "It's just.. We don't see brunettes that much. Our father doesn't like us watching too much television. Y'know how they are, right?"

We shake our head. "Our parents are dead."We assume they are.

Their red polished nails fly up to their mouth. "Oh. Sorry. Then who took care of you?"

"Our aunt."

They nod and twiddle their braid between their fingers. "So, you're from the city, right?"

"Yes."

"Uh, what's it like?"

We blink at the girl. "Are you Vincent's daughter?" We never knew they had

children.

They laugh, a curt sound that resembles a horn. "No! That stiff doesn't have any kids.

They're too uptight. We're their lieutenant's daughter. Our name's Berry."

We chuckle slightly. "Berry?"

"It's a nickname for Sherri. Cute, huh?"

We push our plate away after finishing, and nod.

Berry smiles. "So?"

"So, what?"

They nudge us. "Don't you have a name? We know you city people call yourselves something."

Heat rushes into our face. No one ever asked us our name. We always wear a name tag.

"It's- it's Kiana."

They hand us a bottle of water and we chug it down, moistening our dry throat.

Their smile disappears. "Why are you here?"

Our recent fear returns. "Our sister was arrested by The White Kingdom. We traveled here to save them. We and our friend, Patch, were going to stop here for one night, but we were caught."

They glare at the floor. "If they were arrested, why would you want to find them?"

We shut our eyes. "Because. They an our aunt are our only family. We need them."

"We're so sorry you're getting executed. Tied to a pole and shot."

Our eyes widen, and Berry takes note of this. "They didn't tell you? Weird. Well

yeah, all the officials are gonna tie you to a post and shoot you in front of a crowd.

Which is horribly cruel if you ask us."

We sigh. "Guess our society isn't so glamorous after all."

We nod, and stay silent for a bit, looking at nothing. Then someone calls Berry's name.

They groan. "That's Galleria. Our escort. We have to go."

They chain us back up while we stare at the ground.

They get up to leave and we stop them. "Berry?"

They turn. "Yeah?"

"What if-" we lick our lips before continuing. "What if you messed up something so

bad, and weren't able to fix it?"

They stare at us for a long time, perplexed by the question, and for the first time we notice they have freckles dotted above their nose. Then, they shrug one shoulder and whisper, "There's always a way to fix it. Unless it was never broken in the first place." Someone calls them again, and they head for the door, shutting us into darkness.

XXX

The fourth day. The day of our trial.

We thought the whole encounter with Berry would be a mere memory in our mind, slipping like sand. But it kept us up at night. We were always taught that the people

from the other cities were cold and corrupt, and Commander Vincent is an example.

But Berry seemed alright. From the way they talked it was clear they were the odd

one out in this city, too much spirit. Too much life flows inside that girl. We wonder

why the officials haven't done anything about that. Part of us hopes they never do.

Back to our trial. Vincent and the other officials are going to try us for our crimes, and see if we are worth saving. It's already clear that we're going to be dead the next day.

The red colored guards unlock our chains and we stand up and stretch, relieved to

have the heavy manacles off our wrists, only for the guards to pull our wrists behind

our back and clink a pair of cuffs on them. Then, they lead us upstairs, and the dungeon is a far cry from the actual building, which is vibrant and plagued with smooth wooden floors and vases stocked with flowers and crystal chandeliers. They take us down never ending corridors until will we come to a pair of huge double doors. We're assuming they lead to the conference room. The guard to our right types a few numbers on the number pad, and the doors slide open, and we are greeted by- you guessed it- the conference room.

And it is flooded with red.

The conference room has a bunch of people gathered in it, people whom we inquire

to be the officials. We can tell by the dark red suits they're wearing. We look around and spot Commander Vincent's lieutenant, who is standing on stage talking to a bunch of other people. But Berry is nowhere in sight. We shake our head,

wondering why we're looking for them. What are they going to do? We would be surprised if they hadn't been punished for just talking to us.

The guards march us up to one of the podiums on stage, and set up our microphone. We thought this was a trial, not a political debate!

As we stare down at the mass of people from the stage, they either glare at us in anger, or give us frightened glances. Our face becomes an expressionless mask.

All the conversations stop when the door opens again, and Commander Vincent,

flanked by guards, of course, marches their way onto the stage. They tap on the microphone twice, and their eyes meet ours.

"Kiana 2-7180. Nice to see they're letting you get some exercise."

A few moments pass before we realize that they expect us to say something back.

We clear our throat. "Um, thank you. It's an honor to be here."

That earns a bunch of grumbles and murmurs, until Vincent raises a hand to silence

everyone.

"You do know why you're here, don't you?" They ask.

We nod.

"You have been convicted for two crimes. The Transgression of Preference, andmore threateningly, Trespassing. This is grounds for execution. However, one of our officials has convinced us to hold a trial, to see if you could actually prove useful to Ruby Hills, like to help up with a new name for the city."

A few people chuckle. But we don't find it funny.

"First off," they continue. "What special skills do you have?"

What's worse? Being shot, or forced to work for these strangers?

We choose the latter. We twirl our skirt. "Besides our fashion sense? We're a pretty good knitter."

Frustrated grumbles go around the room, and even Vincent looks taken aback.

But we don't care. We don't want to show these people respect. Especially not the man in front of us.

Vincent recovers and raised a hand again, and everyone goes silent.

"Please, Miss 2-7180," they say the number like it's a last name. "We are trying

to be reasonable. Do you have any information that we could use against Commander Chaston? But wait, you are from the city, aren't you?"

We sigh. "Yes."

"Does Chaston treat you with any respect?"

Our mind flicks back to the house arrest, but that was just because Scott and we were

fighting. That doesn't mean Chaston's a bad leader. Not necessarily.

We clear our throat. "Yes."

Vincent raises their eyebrows. "Really? Then why, we wonder, would Chaston let

one of their own scamper into another territory without knowing?"

They said scamper as if we are nothing but a fragile rabbit, in the face of this more imposing figure. We want to prove them wrong. We _have_ to.

Chaston might not be our favorite person in the world, but that doesn't mean we

are going to talk bad about them to their enemy.

We stand tall, lean into the microphone, and say, " Commander Chaston is a great leader who enforces rules and regulations. We left for a specific reason. If you would just let us go, we will be happy to leave." Even if they let us, we couldn't. Not without Patch.

The conference room is silent. Then Vincent glares at us, and says, "Little girl. If you keep asking us to bend the rules, things will not be good for you. And your sad attempts to defend your city are not amusing, either. We can all tell you're lying. We just want you to cooperate with us, so you might have the chance to live!"

Before Vincent can berate us any further, a women in a red business suit, with red hair in a ponytail, and a clipboard makes her way on stage. They walk over

to Vincent. "Sir, this is pointless. This girl wont give us anything unless we ask

them the right questions," they glance over at us. "And teach them the proper way to speak to authority."

They step up to the podium and stare us down. "Miss 2-7810, why don't you tell us why you're here in the first place."

We exhale. "A couple of days ago, our sister was arrested by the White Kingdom for an inappropriate feed. We traveled here with our friend to to retrieve

them."

Silence follows our speech. The lady, however is unimpressed and clears their

throat. "Not only is that a transgression, but if you interfered with the White Kingdom's business, you might just end up worse than your sister."

We don't meet their eyes, just stare at the floor.

"That is the government's problem, not yours. The White Kingdom would have you killed for even considering such a thing."

Our anger flares. "Are you saying that we shouldn't care about our sister?!"

"That's exactly what we're saying," they smile. It isn't a nice smile. "Your sister

probably did something to provoke our government's wrath. If you ask me, they

got what they deserved. Since you refuse to cooperate, and show no respect for your nation's leaders, I think we should not hold this trial. That we should kill you now, to show your city what happens when they cross the path of a city bigger and stronger than them!"

What happens next we can't really recall, but we think it went something like this:

In anger we dash over to the woman and tackle them, despite our wrists are cuffed, breaking the podium. We kick them in the face repeatedly. People pull us off, and it involved more kicking. We had to be restrained, pulled out of the room and out of the chaos, and Vincent shouts something we can't catch. We were dragged back to our cell, thrown in, and told we were going to die the very next day, right before slamming the door in our face.

At least we _think_ that's what happened.

XXX

We have a hard time sleeping, but we can't toss or turn, because we are chained

to the wall. Eventually, we reside to just staying up until execution time. It gives

us time to think about what happened to Grimalkin, and Patch. It's anyone's guess.

Also about the people we'll never see again, like Aunt Jean, Clare... Michelle.

A sob chokes us, and we shake our head. Why are we surprised? We should have

known this was going to happen.

The metal door creaks open, and a cloaked figure slips in.

Our heart hammers. "Hello?" we squeak, but get no response.

The figure walks toward us. "Who are you?" No answer.

Once they get close enough, they kneel down in front of us.

We scream, but a hand muffles it.

"Shhhh!" a familiar voice hisses while we kick and thrash. They yank off their hood.

_Berry?_

They pull out a key and unlock our chains. "We're getting you out out of here."

Our heart leaps in our chest. We rub our wrists and stand up, gazing at them in

astonishment. "You- you're?" We shake our head. "Why?"

They wipe their eyes with the back of their hand. "We don't know. We've seen people executed, so many times. But never someone we liked before."

"But- you'll get in trouble!"

"Do you want to find your sister or not?" they send us a scowl.

We drop our head in our hands. "Berry, this is crazy. We-" Our head jerks up.

"What about Patch?"

"Who?"

"Our friend! The one we escaped with!"

"We'll free them later on. Let's just go already." they hand us a black cloak.

"Here. Put this on till we get to our room."

We quickly shrug on the cloak, hoping it hides our face. Berry moves to the door

and opens it slowly. They turn back to us. "Remember if someone comes, don't say anything. They'll recognize the sound of your voice."

We nod, and follow Berry into the darkened corridor. It's actually like a dungeon.

The torches, the smell of decay. We travel down the never ending corridor, and tromp up the stairway and open a door to the more civilized looking part of the building. Most of our field trip goes without incident.. Until we hear footsteps.

"Hide!" they push us into a supply closet. We press our ear to the door and listen.

"Sherri! What are you doing here? We've been looking everywhere for you?!"

"Galleria! Um, we-we just..we were-"

"And what are you doing with the dungeon keys?!"

"We just..wanted to say goodnight to the prisoner?"

Wow. Berry is _such_ a bad liar.

There is silence for a while. We hear a foot tapping. "Sherri.." Galleria says in a

threatening voice. "_Where_ is the prisoner?"

Berry's voice becomes tired. "Their name is Kiana," they open the door, revealing us. "And they're in here."

We are staring face to face with a women in red. Of course. But unlike everyone else

decked in gaudy apparel, they actually go for the simple look. Their hair is tied up in

a messy but elegant bun. They are wearing a knee length skin tight dress with a silk

scarf around their neck. Like Berry, they have turquoise eyes. Eyes that are wide

in shock.

"You're.." they trail off and glare at Berry. "Sherri, _how could you_?! Do you know how much trouble the both of us could get in? Take them back right now!"

Berry looks at us, then at Galleria. "We can't. We can't watch anymore executions!"

They shake their head furiously. "No more."

Galleria puts a hand to their temple. "We know you're upset that they're getting

executed, but this is how things are done. There's no way to-"

"We _can't_ be executed." We finally speak up. Galleria and Berry turn to us. "Our little sister is missing. We have to escape Ruby Hills and find them. _Please._ They

mean so, so, _so_, much to us. If they die-" We trail off, looking at the floor.

"You do know that you will be killed doing this, right?" Galleria asks, gently.

We lift a shoulder. "As long as it gives them the chance to live."

Galleria stares at us for a second, battling their thoughts. Then, we hear

voices. "Okay.. we'll help you." Galleria grabs our hand, surprisingly strong. "C'mon!"

We race down the corridors, avoiding places where we heard voices, until we finally reached Berry's room.

Galleria shoves us inside. "Okay, girls, lock the door, and don't let anyone in. God, We can't believe we're doing this!"

"But what if it's you?" Berry asks.

Galleria knocks on the door five times, then once, then twice. "Remember that,"

they say. "And Kiana, don't let anyone see you." Before they shut the door, we stop

them.

"Um, thanks."

They give us an exasperated look. "Well, we don't have the chance to return you, anymore. We might as well send you somewhere." The door shuts in our face.

Berry laughs nervously. "Galleria's just cranky."

"It's not everyday you rescue a fugitive," We say tiredly. We turn from the door,

and gasp.

Berry's room is.. colorful. It isn't red, but a lovely hot pink. Their pink, silky,

king-sized bed is covered in various heart-shaped pillows. No posters hung on the wall, but varieties of patterns covered it. Their dresser is pink, and the mirror itself is heart-shaped.

We stumble backwards.

Berry flashes us a smile with their slightly crooked teeth. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"H-how did you get permission for this?!" We ask, flabbergasted.

They snort. "We're the lieutenant's daughter remember? We can customize our room. It's kinda like being royalty!"

Berry walks over to the dresser and pulls out a pink nightgown.

"You can sleep in this." They take off their cloak and reveal a similar night gown and crawl into bed.

We just stand there, unsure where we are supposed to sleep.

"Are you coming or not?"

"But- we're not supposed to share a bed."

They roll their eyes. "No one's gonna know. But if you're that uncomfortable, you can sleep on the floor. We hear it's good for your back."

Cautiously, we make our way over to the bed and slip in beside Berry. The pillow

is made of silk, which we find uncomfortable. Berry claps their hands, and the light goes off, shutting us into darkness.

"Berry?"

"Yeah?"

We gulp. "What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

A pause. "They'll probably go crazy looking for you. But don't worry, we have a plan."

"What about our hair?"

"We have a _plan_ remember?"

We rap ourselves up in the silk covers looking out the window across the room,

staring at the moon.

"Berry?"

"Hmm?"

"...Thank you."

We get no response, which makes us have the gut-wrenching feeling that Berry might forget their bravery and compassion before this was over.

**End of chapter five**


	7. Chapter 6

**6**

Screaming, hoarse voices,and thundering feet penetrates our tired ears and jerks us awake. Through our blurry vision we see that Berry has disappeared. Cold dread enters our body. How could they just leave us here? Or, has Vincent already caught them, and the guards are stationed outside the door waiting to arrest us? To test our theory, we slowly slip out of bed and tiptoe over to the peephole in the door. A woman in their pajamas runs past the door with lightning speed.

The authorities have gotten wind of our escape. Our heart pounds and we make our way back to the bed and hug our knees to our chest, unsure what to do. A knock comes from the door. A familiar knock. We walk up to the door again. "Who is it?"

We croak, even though we could easily see who it is through the peephole but

we are too frightened to look.

"It's us! Open up!" The voice belongs to Berry.

We very slowly unlock the door.

WHAM! The impact of the door sprawls us onto the ground.

"Omygosh! Kiana, are you okay?" Berry rushes in to help us up. Galleria closes

the door behind them.

We rub our head. "We were just fine until you whacked us in the head!"we say, more bitter than intended.

Galleria pulls a first aid kit out of the closet and hands us a wet cloth. "Sorry about that. Maybe if Sherri would _calm down_," they glower at Berry, who looks away.

We hold the cloth to our head and stumble over to the bed. "So, what's happening out there?"

Berry brushes their hair in the mirror. "Sorry we weren't there when you woke up, but at breakfast everyone went crazy when Commander Vincent said you escaped, and since Galleria and we were the last ones to see you, we were taken in for questioning! But we kept them from going in our room," They send a reassuring smile towards us. "Everything will be fine."

Galleria storms over to Berry and snatches the brush from them. "You call this fine?! Lieutenant Harris left us in charge of guarding you, not helping you break the law! We'll be lucky if we make it to tomorrow!" They grip us by the shoulders and hiss, "If this is ever going to work, we'll need something to help you blend in."

At that, Berry jumps up. "Hang on! We have just the thing!" They run to the closet and fumble around for a while, until they pull out a medium sized red box

with a golden heart encrusted on it. The open it, revealing a single red wig.

"_Sherri_! What are you thinking? Why do you even have that? Those have been illegal for years!?" They put a hand to their chest, and we're afraid they're going to faint.

Galleria is right, of course. Wigs have been forbidden forever. Faking your hair color is strictly against the rules, and results in death. But we can't help but be transfixed by the shiny red hair piece. It looks real, like it was ripped right from someone's head.

Berry ducks their head. "Mother cut some of their hair and made this. They gave it to us when they..." Berry trails off, their eyes fixated on nothing. Galleria nods and says nothing more as they guide us to the mirror, commenting on our waist-length hair.

"Women in Tan Hills tend to grow their hair long," we inform them.

"Must be something in the water supply," they mumble.

We try to find it in us to be offended by the statement, but we feel nothing.

We watch as Galleria wraps our head, pulls out the wig, and gently places it

on our head, adjusting it to perfection. In the mirror, we look like a completely different person. We now have long, red, curly hair that falls down to our shoulders. No trace of black hair anywhere. Galleria pulls out red lipstick. When they raise it to our face, we instinctively pull back.

Galleria purses their lips. "Don't be so childish. If you want to blend in, you'll need

to look and behave like a young lady."

They raise it again, and we let them run the stick over our lips, turning them blood red.

They apply blush to our cheeks, then toss us a red skirt and white button-up shirt, and we quickly change into them.

A voice booms through the intercom we just noticed. Commander Vincent's. "Attention all residents of the Ruby Central Building! Come outside as quickly as possible! Attendance is mandatory! We have a very important message to deliver!"

We turn to Galleria. "Does that include us?"

They check their watch. "It sure does. And we all know what the announcement

is going to be," They rub a hand down the side of their face. "Let's get this over with."

They usher us out the door, but not before hissing to Berry, "This plan of yours

better work."

XXX

Berry, Galleria,and we are standing in a huge mass of people in the courtyard.

A large stage is in front of us. We dreadfully await the appearance of Commander Vincent, who will announce our escape on live TV. Everyone in Ruby Hills

is going to be expecting our execution, but instead they will get bad news from their great leader. So far, no one has recognized us. Let's hope it stays that way.

After a few more minutes, Commander Vincent makes their way onto the stage.

They tap the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, We appreciate you being here.

As you are no doubt aware, miss Kiana 2-7180 of Tan Hills, was tried for their crimes and was scheduled for execution this morning. Unfortunately, not on our account,

the teenager has made an escape."

A round of worried murmurs spread across the crowd. We shrink next

to Berry, who grips our arm so tightly we're sure their fingernails will leave marks.

Vincent tries to assure the crowd. " However, from the information we received, we know that they are headed towards the White Kingdom," this is greeted with shocked gasps, "a task that can't be fulfilled without entering Golden Hills. We have informed Commander Carla of the future intrusion and they will make sure to capture them as soon as possible. We have also sent elite guards

into the woods. We have also contacted Commander Chaston, and he will be joining the search. There is no need to worry. This instigator will be dealt with!"

Some of the crowd cheers, others don't. They either look scared or angry.

"For now," They continue. "Let's focus on the upcoming event next week. Good day, and we hope to see you all at Elysium!"

The crowd begins to disperse. While Berry and Galleria steer us away, our curiosity gets the better of us. "What's Elysium?"

Berry grins. "It's a party the officials have to celebrate the very uneasy treaty between the cities. Chaston and Carla will be there. Probably someone you know will be there."

We shake our head. "Doubt it. We live in the outer part of Tan Hills, not the Central."

Berry lightly puts a hand on our shoulder, and we instinctively flinch away. They notice, and draw back shyly.

"Sorry," we mutter. "We never- we weren't supposed to-"

They wave us off. "We know. We shouldn't have tried to do that. Sorry to make you uncomfortable."

They walk faster to catch up to Galleria, leaving us trailing behind them, our gut ripped open to reveal an empty void.

XXX

The week passes by in an uneventful blur.

We follow Berry and Galleria's rules and evade interaction, only leaving the room for food and other important things. Our everlasting worry over being caught kept us from worrying over Patch, who is still locked up. Commander Vincent concludes that we escaped on our own. Even though with our disguise and new name, which Galleria has decided will be Aria. Galleria told everyone we are new to the Central, so we spend all day greeting people you wouldn't ever want to meet.

Every night,we fall into bed and pass out, sometimes fully clothed. And all our

nightmares would consist of Patch being murdered, us forced to watch.

However speaking with others has it's advantages. Elysium happens every year,

and each year they would swap locations. This year, Ruby Hills would play host.

We beg Berry countless times to rescue Patch, but they say the last thing the

city needs are two missing prisoners. They promise to rescue Patch and let us leave after Elysium. Not that we had much interest in the foreign festivity.

One day, while we are sitting in Berry's room, resting. Berry bursts into the room, grinning like a cat. What ever happened to Grimalkin? We hope they didn't get caught.

"It's time!" they shout. They are sporting a red sun dress today.

"Time for what?" we strain to sit up.

Berry bristles. "You're hopeless. Elysiums here! We have to get you ready! Galleria and Johnetta are waiting for us!"

Before we could ask who Johnetta is, Berry grabs our arm and takes us from the room. We walk down a part of the building we don't recognize and stop at a door.

Inside is a small bedroom far fancier than Berry's. A steaming pool through a side room door catches our eye, and it feels like forever since we'd had a bath.

We hear footsteps on the carpeted floor, and turn to see a pale woman in a long

red and willowy dress and red hair cascading down their back. They are not smiling, examining us closely.

They shake their head. "We see this girl has the same fashion sense as you, Berry."

In the corner of our eye, Berry beams. "You say it like it's a bad thing," they say,

twirling their dress.

The woman smirks. "Fashion _can_ be a bad thing. If you don't know how to express yourself correctly." They turn to us. "Well, aren't you cute. Our name is Johnetta Vargas, seamstress of Ruby Central. And you are?"

"Ki-ow!" We rub our arm after Berry punches us. They give us a warning look. Oh, right. Fugitive. New name.

"Aria. Our name is Aria."

They raise their eyebrows, but say, "Beautiful name, hon. Everyone who's part of Ruby Central is supposed to be taken to us to make them presentable for Elysium tonight. But for you..." They trail off and give us a once-over. "This might be quite a challenge. First off-" they gesture to Galleria beside them. "Galleria will

attend you while you two take a bath. We will be busy making your dresses." They clap their hands. "Off you go!"

Guessing that we were taking a bath first, we follow Galleria to the pool, strip off our clothes, and sink into the water.

Instant bliss. Since we escaped the cell, we hadn't taken a bath. It was too risky due to the showers being outside the room. Plus, we would have to take the wig off.

We forgot how _good_ it feels. A few seconds after we got into the pool, we hear a loud splash that rocks the water into our eyes.

"Ugh!" Squinting through the hot water, we see Berry floating across from us, grinning, sticking their bare feet in our face.

"Berry!" We glare at the laughing girl. "What are you doing in here?"

"Taking a bath," they grin even wider.

"_With_ us?!"

"Well, duh. We take a bath with Gal all the time. Don't you take a bath with someone?"

No. Unless you count us bathing Michelle when Aunt Jean was sick. We shake

our head.

"You people from the city are weird."

Somehow, rubs us the wrong way, like when they tried to put their hand on us. We haven't thought about it until now."Well, Tan Hills is a very practical city, that believes in different things."

"That's funny, considering you left!" The splash soapy water into our mouth, and we start coughing.

XXX

"Well." Johnetta sighs as Berry and we stand before them, blindfolded, in our dresses. "It's not our best work, but it'll have to do. Alright girls, you can take the blindfolds off."

We do so, and Berry and we gape at our reflections. We are draped in a shimmering silky red dress that touches our feet. Long gloves travel all the way up to our elbows, the edges lined with tiny rubies. Berry's dress is similar to ours, except theirs went down to their knees. They have clunky red high heels, and the dress is strapless.

Our hair has been twisted into elegant buns, held together by sparkling red pins, while Berry has their hair down. We are _so _tired of the color red.

"Well," Johnetta clasps their hands together, and Galleria is smiling behind them. "What do you girls think?"

"We're twins!" Berry exclaims.

"Uh, it's nice," we croak, unsure what to say in front of the crimson goddess that stares back at us.

"Nice? You're _hot_!" Berry exclaims.

In the face of this judgment, we can't help but stare down at our toes. "We've never been hot, before."

"We put your clothes in the wash," Galleria tells us. "So after the party, you and Berry can retrieve them."

That's kind of useful, since everyone will be outside, we can grab our clothes, free Patch, and leave.

"Let's go," Johnetta says, wrapping a silky scarf around their neck, and Galleria grabs their purse. "And girls, please try to stay out of trouble."

XXX

We've never been to a party before, obviously. So imagine our surprise when we find the whole courtyard packed. Music plays, classic and boring, and the yard is filled with tables of food and couples spinning across the dance floor. To our surprise, Tan Central has already arrived, and there is an intermix of red and brown all around the courtyard. Golden Central, from what we've heard, has always been fashionably late.

We stumble on our high heels, and Berry steadies us with a smile.

"The trick is to take dainty steps," they pick up their right heel and take a long stride-

"Hey! Do not step on me!"

Berry shrieks, but we gape at the gray cat on the floor, bearing their teeth at the redhead.

"Grimalkin!" The cat yawns and regards us with a bored expression. "Where the heck have you been?!"

"Sleeping, and it seems things are going to get interesting soon, so I will stick around," their gaze shifts to Berry, who is frozen with shock. "I see you've made some new friends."

We fold our arms. "Yeah. They rescued us from the cellar and the execution, kind of like what _you_ should have been doing. Where were you?!"

The cat regarded us blandly. "I was watching you the whole time, Kiana. You wouldn't have been executed on my watch, but since your friend was also watching you," the cat smiles. "I didn't have to do a thing."

Something about that puts us off. Grimalkin has been watching us, Berry has been watching us, Vincent has been watching us, the person who took Michelle has been watching us. It seems we've become the focus of everyone's interest.

Berry unfreezes and points a shaky finger to Grimalkin. "You- you know that thing?"

We force a smile. "Their a friend. But it's a long story."

A sudden presence makes prickles our spine, and we turn to see Galleria standing over us.

"Golden Central is going to arrive soon!" they squeal in excitement, failing to notice the gray cat slipping under the table. "Sherri, you have to take you place beside Lieutenant Harris, your father." Galleria ushers us both toward the biggest table. When we see Vincent and Chaston, our heart pounds, until we remind ourselves that we're in disguise and they won't recognize us.

Berry stops in front of the table, curtsies, and we follow their actions clumsily. We have never been to a party before, but our aunt taught us to greet people properly.

"Sherri, We're glad you made it," a man who we assume is Harris, smiles at their daughter, and everyone mumbles greetings.

"And who is this?" Vincent questions, raising an eyebrow.

Uh-Oh. "We- um," _think of something!_ "We're-"

"This is Aria. Lieutenant Commander Gaven's daughter," Berry quickly covers for us.

"Gaven is out sick today, Sherri," Harris replies.

"W-which is why they sent us, _their daughter_, to take their place at Elysium tonight." We force a grin, and we think we hear a snicker from under the table. Oh, shut up Grimalkin.

There is an agonizing silence. Then, after an eternity, Vincent smiles. We've never seen them smile. "Well, in that case," they raise their cup, and everyone at the table does the same. "Welcome, Aria and Sherri!"

We're amazed that they don't recognize us.

Chaston and Vincent resume talking about our escape, and we take our places beside Harris, and we try to calm our pounding heart.

"Impressive," Grimalkin says almost reluctantly. Suddenly a loud trumpeting begins.

"The Golden snobs are here," Berry chuckles. "This is gonna be fun."

The trumpeting escalates, and the tall white archway at the front of the courtyard now holds a tall man in a golden tuxedo. They speak in a clear voice: "Please welcome, Golden Hills Central, the icon of Equality, and savior of our country!"

We groan. During a "disagreement" between the cities and The White Kingdom, it was Golden Hills that made the treaty that stopped the upcoming war and saved us from obliteration. They are now known as the saviors of Equality. They are the spoon fed golden children of the White Kingdom, and we all hate them for it. Not that anyone would tell them that.

And here they come.

Regal, glamorous, sophisticated. Those are the words that come to mind when we see the Golden Central officials. They are all blond, of course. With either yellow dresses or tuxedos. As they pour in, the party becomes more crowded and blends colors of gold, red, and brown.

Then, Commander Carla makes their appearance.

Their long blond hair cascades down their back in a waterfall of gold. Their eyes are ice blue, and if you look into them, you'll freeze. Their pale skin is a contrast to everyone else's tan complexion, earrings almost as big as their head, they're every

bit a queen.

Behind them, their three sons trail in. The first two are tall and built, blond hair pulled back, blue eyes, dressed in yellow tuxedos. The third one, whom we assume is the youngest, bares nearly the same resemblance as their brothers, except for their sea green eyes. And unlike the others, they look bored. We haven't realized we'd been staring at them for so long.

"That's Dylan, youngest of Commander Carla. They spend a lot of time outside, than in the Central building with their brothers."

We snap out out of our daze and look at Berry. "We didn't say anything."

"But you were looking at him," Grim says, smiling from under the table

We glare at them.

"We don't care who they are," we insist, crossing our arms. "Everyone from Golden Hills is a snob."

Berry shrugs. "They're a cute snob, though. And they're looking at you."

We follow Berry's gaze, ans see that Dylan is indeed staring at us. Their green gaze holds ours. Their eyes remind us of a school field trip where we went to a beach. We remember how warm the water felt, and we imagine swimming in Dylan's eyes forever.

We shake our head and look away, appalled that we could think such a thing.

XXX

As the night wears on, we think longingly of our warm soft bed, at home. But

going home is not an option.

The entertainment is like nothing we've ever seen before. Three girls from Tan Hills doing amazing gymnastics. A man from Ruby Hills plays their flute, while a girl dances to the tune. A stunning woman in a brown dress sings a song about a man who defied the whole country to save his lover, and it reminds us of what we're doing for Michelle. After the song, guards come onto the dance floor and escort them away, despite their pleads. Everyone carries on like nothing happened.

Sometime during the party, we hear a soft chuckle behind us. Our heart stops.

"So, this is Lieutenant Commander Gaven's mysterious "daughter"," Dylan smiles, which makes our insides feel weird. "Isn't it a bit weird that we haven't seen you before?" Up close, we can see that they have dirty blond hair that falls into their eyes, and a dimpled smile.

Before we can answer, Berry saves us again. "Dylan. Good to see you again."

They smirk. "Same goes for us, Sherri. Almost."

Berry scowls. "What's that supposed to mean? And we like to be called Berry."

Their smirk remains, but they ignore Berry and turn back to us.

We stare at them, heart jumping in our chest. "Did you want something?"

They chuckle, and we stare at them, confused. "You should see the look on your face. Like we're going to attack you or something. That is against the rules, you know."

"Then what do you want?"

They bow. "A dance."

Berry covers their mouth to muffle their squealing laughter. We stare at Dylan in shock.

"What? Why can't you dance with Berry instead?!"

"Because it's tradition to dance with someone new to the Central. You should know this. It demonstrates goodwill between the cities. And you will insult our mother by refusing."

Great. We don't need _three_ commanders out to get us.

"So, you're not giving us a choice."

"There's always a choice. We won't force you, but everyone else is expecting us."

We sigh. "We'll just embarrass you anyway. We can't dance."

Their smile grows wider. "Then we'll show you."

We are still wary, but Berry shoves us. "Go on. Dance with them. Maybe they'll be more polite with you than us."

We struggle with ourselves a bit longer._These people keep tabs on he White Kingdom,_ we think._They might know something about Michelle!_

In that case. We timidly place our fingers into their palm, and they guide us away from the table. Berry gives us both a thumbs up. We scowl.

Dylan tightens their grip on our hand, despite our attempts to cringe away. "Follow our lead."

Dylan bows to the officials' table, and we curtsy. The three commanders nod, and

Dylan turns to face us, as they guide our arms around their shoulders and they slide theirs around our waist. We freeze in place. Physical contact is forbidden in the cities.

The music starts.

Dylan steps back and we almost trip, biting our lip as we try to keep pace with them. We kind of teeter across the dance floor, Dylan moving gracefully, while we try our best not to step on their toes. We're surprised no one has started booing.

Somewhere in this waking nightmare, we hear a choked out laugh.

"Quit thinking about it," Dylan chuckles, spinning us around. "Just listen to the music, and follow us."

We press our lips together so we won't snap at them. They've been dancing their whole life, and our level of experience is... How long has this dance been going on?

Instead, we say, "So, you're Carla's son, right?"

"Um, yes," They look at us strangely while spinning us again. "Why so interested?"

"We're not, " we add quickly. "It's just- You guys are friends with The White Kingdom, aren't you?"

"If you want to put it that way."

"Do you know about any prisoners?" They give us a weirder look, and we hurry on. "Particularly a little girl. Black hair and blue eyes?"

They look thoughtful. "The last time we were at The White Kingdom, we were with our mother at a conference. We didn't see any prisoners there."

Our heart plummets. "Oh."

"You know, you don't talk like any redhead we've met."

Our heart speeds up. "What makes you say that?"

They smile, and heat rushes into our face. "Don't play dumb. Redheads are usually simpleminded, overconfident, and extremely careless." They look back at the officials' table. "Take Berry, for instance."

It's all we can do not to laugh, because it's true. Berry is the perfect example of a simpleminded redhead. Although, we have always thought of the blondes that way.

Dylan continues. "You're more like a brunette. Cold, calculating, and stiff."

We are about to blurt out "we are not!" when they add, "And yet, softhearted. You fit that description perfectly."

This takes us aback, and we finally look into their sea green eyes. "We'd prefer you a brunette."

For a while, we just stare, until Dylan looks down and smiles. "See? You're dancing fine."

We'd forgotten about the music, and now we are sweeping across the dance floor like we'd done it a million times. Suddenly, it's like we are the only two people in the world, spinning round and round on the stage. The music inflates us with peace, and we close our eyes, finding ourselves liking the strange sensation.

The song ends, and Dylan spins us a final time, and we end up pressed against their chest. Dylan's eyes meet ours, and they smile. We don't. The halt of the music has jerked us back to reality. Our hands are now sweaty from holding on, and the feeling in our stomach makes us feel like we're going to throw up. We want desperately to leave the stage. To get away.

A scream interrupts our emotional breakdown. We look into the crowd and see that someone in the crowd has collapsed. Someone else falls. And another. And another.

More screams fill the air as more people collapse in groups of two, six, ten.

Dylan and we break apart and scan the situation. People are now either running, screaming, or passing out. The commanders are still upright, calling for order, though Carla is swaying a little. We look upon the ground and notice soft white mist curling up from it. Immediately we know what it is.

Knockout gas.

Our brain leaps into panic mode as the mist coats the air in white. We back away from Dylan, and hold our breath. Someone calls our name, though we can't identify who it is through all the screaming. _Take action!_ Our brain hisses. Before we know it, we hit the floor.

**End of chapter six**


	8. Chapter 7

**7**

The gas burns our eyes and nose as we crawl across the dance floor, the whiteness of the atmosphere making it impossible to see where we're going.

We've no idea what happened to Dylan, but we hear running footsteps, shouts, and the rolling of gurneys across the dance floor. The medics are here.

Eventually, we tumble off of something and fall hard onto solid ground, signalizing we made it off the dance floor. The coughing fits start, and we find it harder to stay upright as we are pulled into unconsciousness.

We can barely make out someone calling our name, though we still can't place the voice. We drag our body over to the direction of the calling, but our arms give out and we fall to the ground, our eyes drooping. Then, we feel someone's hand clamp around our wrist, and start to drag us along the ground and into the itchy shrubs. The rough ground becomes tickling grass, and the effects of the gas start to fade away quickly, so we can open our eyes.

"Kiana! Kiana, are you okay?!" we hear Berry's frantic voice as their face comes into view, their red hair tickling our nose.

We cough again. "We think so-" we sneeze, which effectively gets most of the gas out of our system.

Grimalkin trots in with our bag, and spews it's contents everywhere, revealing our leftover traveling clothes.

"Change. Quickly. We do not have much time before everyone recovers." Grimalkin looks over their shoulder. "Hurry up!"

To our everlasting joy and relief, Patch staggers toward us, wearing the same clothes they wore before we got stuck here. They look awful. Pale skin, sunken in

eyes and cracked lips.

"Patch!" We stagger over to them, and tentatively take their hands. For a second they stand there, not recognizing us, until we tug the horrible wig off. Their eyes widen.

"K-Kiana? What's going on? Why is it all white over there?" They catch sight of Berry, watching us. "And who's that?"

"We're Berry." They stand up, having ditched their red dress for cargo pants, sneakers, and a red t-shirt. "Nice to meet you."

"O_kay_," Their eyes fall on Grim. "We know who you are." they glance back at the lifeless party. "_What's going on_?"

"The party was gassed," We tell them, our tone now serious. "Everyone's knocked out."

"They know we're here." Grim trotted over to the edge of the field.

"The White Kingdom?" we ask, perplexed. "Why would they gas the people they're

working with?"

Grimalkin sneezes laughter, which irks us. "You think they care about the commanders? They could imprison them all for letting you escape. We are wasting time. Ask questions later."

"We're coming with you!" Berry insists, eyes gleaming in the night.

"No," we say without hesitation. We have enough on our plate as is. This mission had been carefully planned, calculated, and instigated by us to the point where there's no turning back. One bump in the road could kill us all, or everyone but us. And when Ruby Hills found out we were responsible for killing Berry, we would be dead and gone. Like our parents.

We shove them out of our head and say, "We can't have another person to look after."

Berry's petite face twists into a scowl. Not the teasing one. "Look after? We've been looking after you all week!"

"You didn't have to!" we yell, feeling a pang of guilt for talking to Berry like this. "That was your decision. You didn't want us to die, and now we don't want _you_ to die. Besides, they might think we kidnapped you once they find out you're gone. And what about Galleria?"

Berry bristles. "Who's idea do you think it was for us to come with you in the first place?"

Our jaw goes slack. _Galleria arranged Berry's escape?_

"Why?" we ask, bewildered.

"They said it wasn't safe here anymore." Berry whispers, gaze dropping to the ground.

"Well, it's not safe with _us_ either," we argue.

"We are wasting time," Grim hisses, annoyed by our slow decision making. "Let her come. We have to get to Golden Hills immediately. That's the quickest way to the White Kingdom."

"Golden Hills?" Berry asks, tone laced with excitement.

"Yep," Patch gives them a lopsided smirk. "You sure you want to do this?"

Berry nods and eagerly follows Patch and Grimalkin's retreating backs while we fume

over our two companions' ignorance over the situation.

XXX

"How much farther till we're out?" Berry's irritated voice echoes through the tunnel, hissing in pain as they scratch themselves on yet another thorn.

"Not far. We are taking a short cut." Grim replies as we crawl through the briar tunnel.

"Where is this path taking us, anyway?" Patch asks, their skin starting to revert to it's normal color.

"To the city."

"Really?!" Berry chirps, annoyance forgotten. "We've been to the city a few times, when Commander Vincent makes public announcements, but we often just watch from the Central."

_And the Central is where you should stay,_ we think somewhat bitterly. Just the thought of Galleria thrusting another life into our hands twists our stomach into all forms of unbreakable knots. We like Berry for who they are: a city girl. And if this city girl doesn't get killed, they will get _us_ killed.

"We thought you were taking us to Golden Hills, Grim?" We glare at the cat.

They yawn, bored with it all. "I am. One of the residents hides a secret tunnel that will take us directly to the heart of Golden Hills."

Our heart skips a beat. "We thought those tunnels were destroyed."

"Not all of them."

We turn a corner, and find a large cement tube in our path. A drainage pipe, meaning that the briar cluttered tunnel is some kind of sewer.

Grim gives us a long uncomfortable stare. "Those belts," they began, referring to the metallic belts we've all been given. "Are activated, so they will shield us from the human eye, and we can continue without trouble. Agents of the Centrals use them to sneak around. However, if you touch anything electronic, it will short out the belt, and you will become visible again. Understand?"

"Where did you get these, again?" Berry's voice cracks with anxiety.

Grim smiles, which looks incredibly eerie. "I stopped by the weapon room while storming the building. I thought perhaps they would come in handy."

We all nod, solemnly, and Grimalkin lifts the sewer top, revealing a sunny blue sky.

XXX

We emerge from the drainage pipe to the sounds of bus engines. We are in downtown Ruby Hills, surrounded by tall red buildings. The air is cold and crisp, and people rush by with jackets tugged tightly around them. Much to our horrible dismay, wanted pictures are plastered on almost every virtual billboard. We try our best to ignore them.

Grim is right. No one seems to notice three teenagers and a cat crawl out of a sewer pipe.

"Nice place," Patch says, their voice still strained from exhaustion.

Not really. Since it is fall, and dirty slush clog the sidewalks and drains.

Grim inspected the city. "Hmm. It has been a while since I have been here. Let me think."

We've seen Ruby Hills before, on TV. But they've always showed the brighter, cleaner, sparklier parts of the city, mainly the Central. This is a more rundown, mucky part of the town. Poorer. We're sure all the cities have it.

It's where we live.

"Follow me," Grimalkin says. "We are taking a little.. shortcut."

Obediently, we all follow Grimalkin behind an alley, past several buildings and slips under the fence, while we hop over it. They lead us deep into the forest and we are about to ask where they are taking us when they suddenly stop. Deep in the woods is a two story house, lit with pink and blue neon lights that radiate in the darkness. Young men and women line up outside, the lights sparkling off earrings, and metal studs. Loud, booming, unsettling music is pounding the walls outside.

We've never seen anything like this in our sixteen years of life. We look over at Patch and Berry, who are also alarmed.

"They're having a _party_?" We ask, incredulous. "In the middle of the forest? That's illegal! How could they get away with this?!"

Grim rolls their eyes at us.

"Dance clubs are not allowed in the city, either," they notify us in a patronizing tone, as if we are stupid.

"Dance what?" Patch asks, eyes wide, face pale. We're pretty sure we have on the same expression.

"A dance club," Grim sighs. " An activity they had back many years ago. Older teenagers would participate in dancing to loud music, drinking, and other things of the sort."

"Then why is it _here_?" We ask.

"These people aren't exactly _from_ here," Grimalkin informs.

"What are you talking about?" Berry demands. "They all have red hair. They must be from Ruby Hills."

Grim turns to face us, eyes eerily shining in the moonlight.

"There are rumors speculating, humans. Rumors told about people from the _outside._

People who are not under control of the government, and some of them are invading the city, trying to convince people, tempt them into leaving._ Permanently._"

All is silent. No one is willing to speak as we all let the news sink in. _Leave the country?_ The idea is so unreal, so preposterous, the White Kingdom would never fathom anyone having the guts to go against them and leave the country. It would be impossible anyway. The country is so huge and packed with security, you wouldn't make it two miles.

The rumors must be untrue. The only way someone could leave the country would be flying off, and only important, trustworthy people with jobs or are high in power can access that type of transportation.

We couldn't imagine anything like this happening in Tan Hills.

Grim chuckles. "Of course, they're only rumors, after all." They trot ahead, leaving us, Patch, and Berry behind.

XXX

We are able to slip past the line no problem, what with being invisible.

Remember what we said when we were glad that none of this ever happened in Tan Hills? We don't regret it.

Inside is _chaos_.

We'd obviously never been to one of these clubs before so we are mortified by the lights and the noise. We aren't sure what the people of Ruby Hills do all day, but we're sure it isn't dancing and twisting and entwining your fingers in other peoples' hair.

Dry ice smoke writhes along the floor, reminding us of the knock-out gas at the party. Colored lights turn the dance floor into and electric pink, blue and gold.

Music bombards our ears, and we could feel the vibrations in our chest, we wonder how anyone could communicate in such a barbaric place.

Dancers spin, twist, and sway on the stage, bouncing in time to the music, sweat and energy pouring off of them as they dance. Some dance alone, others in pairs that can't seem to get their hands off each other. It makes us our stomach turn.

We look at our comrades and see that Patch has become very pale again, and Berry looks like a deer in headlights. Grim wiggles out of our arms and glares at us. "Try not to sweat so much, Kiana. You've dampened my fur."

Realizing our hands are wet, we wipe our hands on our jeans.

"Deactivate your belt, Kiana, I will need you for this," they say. We do, becoming visible again, but no one notices because we have our wig on.

Grim trots toward the back of the club, and we follow. Near the bar, a small door with the words Staff Only stood near the back of the club. Casually, we approach the door, but before we get too close, the bartender rises up from behind the counter and narrows their eyes.

"You don't wanna do that, love," the man warns. Their dark hair is pulled back in a tail, revealing all of their handsome face. They move to the edge of the bar. " Why don't you come over here and we'll fix you something nice? On the house what do you say?"

We wait for Patch to scold us about taking things from strangers, but it never comes. We look around and notice that they and Berry have gotten lost in the crowd. Great.

Grimalkin hops onto a stool, and puts their front paws on the counter. "We're looking for Shay," They say as the bartender shoots them an irritated look, turning away from us. They don't seem at all fazed by a talking cat, maybe they've met before. _Of course_, we think, _Grim's already been here_.

"Shay is busy," the man replies, wiping down the bar, and not meeting Grim's gaze. Grim continues to stare, until the man looks up, and their eyes slit dangerously. "We said they're busy. Now, why don't you beat it, before we stuff you into a bottle?"

A slithering voice brought us back to the present. "David, that's no way to treat customers," a female came from behind the door, and smirked at us and Grimalkin. "Especially if one is an old friend."

The woman is small and slight,with pale skin and blue lips. Their spiky red hair sticks out in every angle, and they wear red leather pants, and a red t-shirt. Their face glitters with countless piercings: eyebrows, nose, lips, ears, enough to make anyone here weep with envy.

"Hello, Grimalkin," the woman says, sounding resigned. "It's been a while, hasn't it? What brings you to our humble club? And with a rebel in tow?" they look at us curiously.

_Stay calm_, we gulp. "Rebel?"

They smirk. "You're at a forbidden dance club, sweetie. Don't worry," they wink at us, which sends a chill down our spine. "You're secret's safe with us."

"We need passage into Golden Hills," Grimalkin says without hesitation. "Tonight, if you can."

"Don't ask for much, do you?" Shay motioned us into a corner booth, once seated, they snap their fingers and a lanky male teen rushed over to stand near Shay.

"Appletini," they tell them. "Do you two want anything?"

"No," Grim says firmly, and we shake our head.

The boy nods and scurries off, and Shay leans forward. "So. Passage to Golden Hills. You want to use our tunnel, right?"

"It is not your tunnel," Grim says, thumping their tail against the seat cushions.

"But it's under our dance club," Shay replies. "And Commander Karla won't be pleased if we let a redhead into their territory. This could get us into trouble, like, White Kingdom trouble. So, what do we get out of this?"

"A favor repaid," Grim narrows their eyes at them. "You're debt to me canceled."

"Fine, for you," Shay turns their leer on us. "What about this one? What can they offer?

We swallow. "What do you want?" We ask, and Grim shoots us an annoyed look.

We ignore them. If anyone would barter away our fate, it would be us.

Shay crosses their legs with a smile. The boy appears with their drink. A red concoction with a tiny umbrella. For a moment the boy's eyes meet ours and, to our surprise, mouths,_Run,_ and scurries off again. While Shay sips the drink, we contemplate what the boy said, and our heart races in fear.

"Good question," Shay murmurs. "What do we want of you? It must be darn important for you to get into Golden Hills."

They take another sip. "How about... your name?" they say at last. We blink.

"Our name?"

"That's right." Shay smiles disarmingly. "Nothing much. Just promise us the use of your name, and we'll call it even."

"No way," we tell them. "You're not getting our name."

"Oh, well," Shay shrugs and raises the glass to their lips. "We guess you'll have to find another way into Golden Hills, then." They shift toward the end of the booth.

"It's been a pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a club to run."

"Wait!" We blurt out.

Shay pauses, and turns expectantly.

"All right," we whisper. "We'll give you a name. After that, you'll open the tunnel, right?"

They smile, showing their teeth. "Of course."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Grim asks softly. "You shouldn't give these people your name."

And there's the scolding. "Swear it," we tell Shay. "Promise you'll open the tunnel

once we give you the name."

The woman's smile turns viscous. "Not as stupid as they first appear," they mutter, and shrug. "Very well. We, Shay, keeper of the spy tunnel, swear to open the path once we have received payment in the form of a single name, spoken by the requesting party." they brake off and smirk at us. "Good enough?"

We nod.

"Alright, then," Their eyes glitter eagerly. "Now, give us the name."

"Fine," We take a deep breath as our stomach twists violently. "Chaston Saunders."

Shay's face goes blank. "What?" For one glorious moment, they look utterly bewildered. "That's not your name, girl. That's not what we agreed on."

Our heart pounds. "Yes, it is," we tell them, keeping our voice firm, looking them straight in the eye. "We promised to give you _a_ name, not _our_ name. Now, show us the tunnel."

Beside us, Grim starts sneezing, a sudden explosion of feline laughter. Shay's features remain blank for a moment, then cold rage creeps into their features,

and they set their empty glass down with a bang.

"You," their terrifying gaze stabs into us, but we stand our ground, despite the urge to run away screaming. "_You_ are going to pay for this, little girl. Make no mistake about that. We will make you beg for mercy until your throat is raw from it."

Grim stops laughing and jumps onto the table. "You've been out negotiated, Shay.

Cut your losses and try again some other time. We really must be going."

Shay makes a visible effort to control themselves. "Very well," They say with great dignity. "We will uphold our end of the bargain. Wait here a moment. We need to inform David that we'll be gone for a bit."

They stalk away with their chin high in the air.

"Very clever," Grimalkin says softly. "Shay has always been too rash, never pausing to listen for important details. Still, you might regret your little battle of wits before this is over. Shay never forgets an insult."

We watch Shay lean over and whisper something to David, who narrows their eyes at us, then goes back to wiping the table. Another thought strikes us.

"Berry! Patch! We forgot them, Grim!"

Grimalkin sighs. "I doubt Shay will want anything from them. You go with Shay. I will seek them out. Don't make any decisions until I get back." With that, they hop off the stool and into the crowd, leaving us at the mercy of the red haired witch.

Shay returns. Their eyes still glare at us with dislike. They don't ask where Grimalkin went. "This way," they announce, and lead us across the room, toward the staff only door. We follow them down five or six flights of stairs, pausing at a door that said _Basement: staff only _painted on the door.

Shay gives us a razor sharp grin and pushes the door open.

Once inside, we find that the basement looks like a training room. There are targets on the wall that look like they've been stabbed with knives, and a huge blue mat in the center of the floor with dried blood spots on it. There are shiny swords, knives, spears, and bows on a rack on the wall near us. A bunch of other mats are stacked on a door which must be the tunnel. _Thank you lord._

"This is where a gang of ours comes to practice," Shay explains with an evil grin.

"They're our special security. To make sure no rough housing goes on," Their grin grew wider. "And no trespassers."

They tear off our red wig, our black hair falling down to our back. We stare at them in shock, but they smirk devilishly. "No worries. No one will ever find out."

Shay stalks over to the door, pushes the mats aside, and opens it, revealing the inhumanely long hallway. "Well," they call back to us. " Here's the tunnel. Are you going to stand there or what?"

Before we can tell them who we're waiting for, the hair on the back of our neck stands up. We throw ourselves to the floor, covering our head, before hearing the loud _thud _of something hard slam into the wall. We look up and find a knife lodged in the wall where we were just standing. Shay's laughter rings in the air as the gang, complete with black leather and long knives piled into the room, grinning evilly at us. There were eight of them. _Out to kill us_.

"Now," they say, leaning against the door frame, "this is entertainment."

**End of chapter seven**

**A/N: Sorry it took longer than usual! I have a life, you know. Next chapter will come sooner! Hopefully..**


	9. Chapter 8

**8**

The gang members crowd through the doorway, knives flashing in the dim

light. They are wearing red biker jackets and leather pants, a strange attire for this century. But if by some chance Grim's rumors are true, then these people are definitely not from here. They also sport crimson bandanas. We notice that they all of them are wearing silver collars on their necks. They must be the legendary shock collars we've been told about so many times at school. They were used as a form of torture back when the war was taking place. Shay is using it as a way to control them. The one in front, with tussled fiery hair, whom we assume is the leader, leers at us.

"Well, what do we have here?" their voice is low and gravelly. "The guy upstairs said we'd have a new sparring partner if we came down. And it's a _brunette_!"

"Well," the boy beside them cracks their knuckles. "Let's make them feel _welcome_."

They start toward us, grinning madly, waving their weapons, and we can't move. There's nowhere to go. We yank the knife out of the wall and thrust it out towards them defensively, our hand shaking while gripping the knife. The boys laugh at our attempt to seem threatening, and keep advancing toward us, spreading out to box us in. We are about to be killed, and there's nothing we can do about it.

_We're sorry,_ we whisper in our head, though we know Michelle can't hear us.

Through it all, we are aware of Shay, lounging in the tunnel doorway, a self satisfied smirk on their face. "Do you like where our contract has gone, little bitch?" they call over the jeers of the gang. We are disgusted by their word choice. "Throw us your real name, and we might call them off."

The leader rushes us, and their mountainous form hammers us to the ground, which knocks the breath out of our lungs. They pin our arms and legs to the ground in an instant. The boy then smirks and pulls out a long knife, while our struggles increase. In a flash, they drag it along our right arm. Unleashing a bloodcurdling scream, we flail wildly, and somehow get our feet under the massive boy's stomach and launch them off of us, and into the boy behind them. Snarls and curses fill the air.

When you're about to die, time seems to slow down. The gang members surge forward, cackling and brandishing knives, while Shay leans against the door frame and laughs.

A huge rock comes out of nowhere and hits the leader right in the head.

They fall to the ground, hard.

In this moment of distraction, everyone, including Shay, looks toward the doorway.

Patch, Berry, and Grimalkin stand there, Patch with another huge rock in one hand, and a crowbar in another. Berry also carries a crowbar, though smaller.

Patch eyes us and waves. "Sorry we're late, they were passing around a bunch of weird beverages."

We try to smile at them, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

Patch winks at us, then turns to Shay. "Hey, Shay," they wave. "Nice place you got here. We'll have to remember it, so we can bring a little 'Patch' to the atmosphere."

"It's an honor to have you here," Shay answers, grinning evilly, "If our security leaves you in one piece, we'll use you and your friends as an example to show people what happens when they cross us. Kill them!"

Berry rolls their eyes at Patch, and snatches the rock from their hand. Berry turns and hurls it at the nearest gang member, hitting them square in the gut. They hunch over and howl in agony.

Our eyes widen. Since when did Berry have such good aim? We thought it was Patch who'd thrown that rock.

Speaking of, the gang leader has now recovered, but has their attention on our friends. They lunge at Patch and Berry, and Patch whacks them in the face with their crowbar. They stumble backwards. Patch gives us and Berry an apologetic look.

"Excuse us a moment, ladies, we have to go play with the children."

The gang members snarl curses and lunge at them.

They continue this deadly dance around the room, Patch leading them on with taunts, laughter, and cheers. They dance, dodge, and pirouetted their way around the room, almost seeming to enjoy themselves. Our heart stays lodged in our throat the whole time. One wrong move, one miscalculation, and Patch would be sliced to pieces.

"They're an idiot." a voice came from beside us.

We jump, and glare at Berry. "You scared us."

"Not to mention we also saved your life." They throw their arms around us, which smothers our arm, and a small cry escapes. Berry jerks back.

"They hurt you?"

We show them our arm. They examine it.

"Not too bad," they tell us, and give us a small smile. "We'll find something that will-"

"Wow. If this gets any sweeter, we might get cavities."

Our heads whip around, and we see that Shay has slinked away from the door frame, and is now a few feet away. They have a long spear over their head, angled at us.

A yowl pierces the air, and Grimalkin thumps onto Shay's back, and they stagger.

Something flashes golden on their chest: a key, attached to a thin silver chain.

With a curse, Shay flings Grimalkin into a wall with a thud.

"Run!" Berry shouts, tugging on our good arm, but we break away and lunge, grabbing the key on Shay's neck. Shay turns, and clamps a pale hand around our

throat. We gasp, clawing at their arm with our free hand, but they barely flinch.

Shay slowly tightens their grip, smiling. We sink to our knees as the room begins to dim.

_Thwack!_ Berry's crowbar strikes Shay in the back of the head, and they fall to their knees, as the pressure on our throat disappears. Lurching upright, we shove the woman with all our might, pushing them away. There is a jerk and a tiny snap, and the key comes loose in our hand.

"Hey, what was that-" we interrupt Berry by showing them the key and pointing to the gang. They give us a knowing smile.

"Stop!" we yell, our voice hoarse. The gang stops chasing Patch and looks at us.

"Help us!" we cry, holding up the key. "And we'll free you! We'll set you free!"

Patch gives us an uncertain look, and the gang members whisper among themselves. We caught _"You think they're serious?"_

Something smashes into the back of our head, nearly knocking us out. We collapse, clutching the key, as pain rages across our senses. Someone kicks us in

the ribs turning us onto our back. Shay looms overhead, a dagger raised in one hand.

_"__Kiana!"_ Before Patch can do anything, the leader of the gang kicks Shay in the side with so much force that it hurls them into the wall with a nasty thud.

We scramble to our feet, ignoring the way our muscles scream in protest. We stagger toward the gang, and none of them move as one by one, we unlock all of collars. Every last one of the collars clatter to the floor.

Shouts fill the room, shouts of triumph and rage.

Patch grabs us and pulls us away. "Let's go," they mutter, and Berry joins us.

"Head for the tunnel."

"What about Grimalkin?"

"I am here," the cat says, appearing beside us. Their voice sounds strained, and they favor their left paw, but otherwise seem fine. "It is definitely time to leave."

We all stagger toward the open door, but Shay blocks our path. "No," the woman

growls. Their left arm hangs limp, but they raise the dagger and angle it at our chest. "You will not pass. You will die here, and we will turn in your bodies and be appointed to the White Kingdom where we belong!"

Snickers echo behind us, and footsteps click toward us.

"Trevor. All of you," Shay says without taking their eyes off us. "kill them. All is forgiven. Slice them up, slowly. Do it now."

We hear laughing, and knuckles cracking. "Better idea," Trevor's deep voice turns vicious. "How about they leave, and we make up for lost times?" They advance toward Shay.

"What?" Shay backs away, while they edge closer, pulling out knives. "What are you doing? Get back, you morons! Stop! No, no!"

"Let's go," Patch whispers, tugging our arm. We sprint for the open door. The last

thing we see as the door closes behind us, is the gang surrounding their former master, and Shay raising their dagger as they back away.

XXX

The corridor stretches away before us, filled with flickering lights. This tunnel is ancient. The countries used these tunnels to send spies to other countries, to spread information about the war. When the war ended, the tunnels were supposedly destroyed. We wonder why this one's still here.

We slump against the wall, shaking as the adrenaline wears off.

"You all right? Patch asks, green eyes bright with concern. We lunge forward and throw our arms around them, hugging them tightly, completely forgetting the personal space rule we grew up with. We don't care. We don't care about anything at the moment. After a moment , they pull us close. Berry and Grimalkin stand to the side, watching us. Eventually, we pull away and sink back against the wall, dragging them down with us.

Berry squats down next to us. "Close call, huh?"

Breathless, we nod. We look up at Patch again, and force a smile. "It seems you're always saving us from something."

They smirk down at us. "Isn't that our job?"

We bury our head in their chest, and mutter, "We know you might not want to hear it, but thanks."

Berry crosses their arms. "Hey, what about us? _We_ were there too, ya know!"

We brake away from Patch and examine the redhead. Their hair is tussled, but not

too much. Their eyes show fatigue and their skin had somehow gotten paler. A sharp contrast to the beautiful girl we had seen at Elysium. Heat settles in our stomach.

We knew this trip was too much for them, we warned them of the dangers, told them of the risks, and because they're as stubborn as Michelle, they shoved their way into

the group.

Our heart aches at the thought of Michelle, so we push it out of our mind.

"What?" We realize we've been staring for too long.

Sighing, we rub our hand over our eyes. "Berry, maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"You're still trying to kick us out?" they demand, indignant. "After we just risked our life saving you?!"

We stand up, and slowly start down the hallway. The group imitates our actions. "Thank you. For saving us. But you risking your life, you- you shouldn't have to do that! We understand you want to help, but we think you were better off in Ruby Hills."

Everyone, even Grimalkin, is silent. We wait for Berry's response as emotions dance across their face. Finally, they say, "You know what Galleria said to us?"

We exhale, but Berry's voice rises.

"They said,_ You can't stay here anymore. Too dangerous. The system is falling apart. You'll be safer with Kiana._"

Our expression does not change. "They couldn't have said that."

"Well, they did. And we said,_ How is being with Kiana any better?_ And you know what

they told us?"

We cross our arms, wincing with the cut in our arm, and look everywhere but at Berry, focusing on nearing the end of the tunnel.

"They said,_ Trust us. That girl is a game changer._"

Our steps nearly falter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Berry shrugs. "We don't know. They left after that. Bottom line, you're not getting

rid of us." With that, they increase their pace, leaving all of us behind.

We stare after them, incredulous, then Patch opens their mouth.

"Kiana: The Game Changer. Has a nice ring to it."

We roll our eyes, and Grimalkin snorts.

XXX

The hallway ends with a simple metal door. Sunlight flows under the bottom crack, and we could almost feel the warmth through the door.

Patch steps forward. "Ladies and felines," they state grandly, holding the door knob. "welcome to Golden Hills. Land of the snobs and half off designer shoes."

We shield our eyes from the blinding sunlight as Patch pulls the door open.

Our eyes adjusting to the light, we step forward.

We stand in a beautiful, healthy garden, a cherub fountain in the center of the yard pouring brilliant blue water. In the distance, beyond the vibrant green trees and thorny scrub, we see the pointed roof of a building. We glance back and see Patch, Berry, and Grim standing under a bunch of trees, probably to

shade themselves. The tunnel behind them is shrouded with trees and vines, No wonder it never gets used.

Patch whistles. "Charming. It's all colorful and full of life. Not like the no man's land back home. Who's the gardener, we wonder? We'd love to get some tips."

"How far are we from Golden Central?" Berry asks.

We pull out the map from our backpack. "Let's see.. We're about maybe two days'

walk from-" we hiss in pain, and fall to our knees, clutching our arm.

"Kiana? What's wrong?" Patch catches us by the shoulders, keeping us from falling

over.

"Arm," we croak, as we watch our arm bleed through blurry eyes. The bleeding stopped before, and we managed to ignore the pain, but now that it had started again, it's stinging is getting worse.

Patch cradles us, while Berry scans the trees. "We read in a textbook that a certain tree's leaves can treat cuts like that."

Grimalkin hops onto a tree stump and sits down. "Then we had better find it soon, and look for shelter, before someone becomes aware of our presence."

A dark chuckle echoes across the garden. "It's a little late for that, we're afraid."

A figure steps out from behind a tree, sword held loosely in one hand. Our heart skips a beat, then picks up again, louder and more frantic. The breeze ruffles the figures golden blonde hair as they move toward us, graceful and silent. Grimalkin hisses and darts into the bushes, Patch steps in front of us, and Berry edges closer, their face white.

"We've been waiting for you," Dylan murmurs into the silence.

**End of chapter 8**


	10. Chapter 9

**9**

"Dylan," we whisper, our words almost lost on the wind. The pain seems to

have numbed to a dull throbbing as we take in the appearance of our former dance

partner. They look somewhat gorgeous draped in golden attire, shining aurelian

boots crunching over the grass as they stalk toward us. The coldness in their eyes

as they settle on us tells us they know exactly who we are-red hair or no.

We don't think the fact that we danced with them makes any difference.

As in, it won't influence their decision to arrest us. Or kill us on the spot.

"Dylan?" Apparently Patch caught what we said. "So this is the prince charming we've heard so much about," Patch sticks out their hand. "Name's Patch. Nice to make your acquaintance."

Dylan does not move, and simply regards them with a bored look.

Patch, getting the clue, pulls back. "Okay, then. Mind telling us how you found us?"

"It wasn't difficult," Dylan replies, their facial expression mirroring their voice. "Your

friend mentioned that they were looking for someone in the White Kingdom. It's no

secret that you have to travel through Golden Hills first, and we're one of the few people who know this tunnel's still here. It was only a matter of time."

"And you were listening in on our conversation since we've been here? How rude!"

disgust laces Berry's voice, and they cross their arms.

Dylan sizes Berry up, and snickers. "You brought Sherri along? They won't last ten

minutes out here."

Berry's face becomes as crimson as their hair. "For your information it's _been_ ten minutes! And how would you know how long we'd last, anyway?!"

Their smirk grows wider. "Because we know you, and we know you hate anything but luxury."

As much as we'd like to defend Berry, for the past week, they've been nothing but pampered. And Dylan's obviously known Berry longer than any of us. Who are we

to step in?

Berry steps forward, but Patch holds them back. "What do you want, Dylan?"

"For you and 'Should of stayed home' to move out of the way of our real target,"

Dylan smiles at us still crouched on the ground. "Aria, isn't it?"

Instead of panicking, we let out the breath we didn't know we've been holding. "You knew," we say, our voice resigned.

They roll their eyes. "Of course. Commander Carla uses us as part of their official defense force. We depict faces from wanted posters very easily."

"Apologies, miss," the bow slightly, then point their sword at us. "But you are under arrest."

Our heart plummets, but Patch's voice scares us even more than Dylan. "Over our

dead body."

Dylan sighs, spinning their sword. "We didn't want it to have to come to this. But,

if that is your wish," They glance at us for a second, then steps toward Patch, who

pulls out two daggers from their backpack.

Berry whimpers and tries to pull us back, but we latch on to Patch's sleeve with our good arm.

"Patch, don't fight them," we plead as Patch eyes us with a weary expression.

Patch sighs and holds up a finger to Dylan, who's brow knits with confusion. They

drag us and Berry behind the fountain and crouches down, whispering to us fiercely.

"We have to do this, Kiana," they say. "This guy won't let us go without a fight. Do

you want to find your sister or not?"

We choke on our own words, and Berry says what we couldn't. "Are you insane? Dylan has loads of experience, and you have no idea how to fight."

This causes Patch to smirk. "Berry, you're about to learn what happens when you run

your mouth."

Quick as lightning, they kiss us on the cheek, then hop to charge at their opponent,

leaving us speechless.

Dylan lunges, a blur of gold across the greenery, sword slashing down at our friend.

Our heart freezes, but Patch leaps out of the way, as if they had been anticipating

the attack. Berry and we stare at each other in bewilderment. Next thing we knew,

they are both deep in battle, each with deadly gleams in their eyes.

Of course, we had thought Patch was crazy taking on a skilled fighter, especially

one from Golden Hills. But watching them now, it's as if we are watching a completely

different person. One who dodges, parries, and slices like a professional. We watch

as Patch yet again dodges their opponents vicious cut at their head. Another slice comes, and they parry with their blade and twist away. We were wrong,

_Patch does know how to fight._

But... How?

When?

And most importantly, _Why didn't they tell us?_

Patch has never kept a secret from us.. In all two years of knowing them.

We groan inwardly. That boy, the one locked in combat with their opponent. That's

not- it can't be Patch. Fun loving, sweet, Patch who always tries to compliment everyone, except the one's who don't deserve it. Who knows when to keep their emotions hidden form our colorless world, and the exact moment to let them out. Patch, who wouldn't- _strike_ anyone.

Patch, who's been there for us since day one.

**Flashback**

_A year ago, we were a mousy fifteen-year-old girl who was still broken over the _

_loss of our parents. On June 2nd, our birthday, we went to the Command Center_

_to be assigned to a job, since we were now old enough to help Aunt Jean support_

_our family. We always admired the defense force, because they make the most money, and we always wanted to learn how to fight. Making sure the city stays in line, and putting down a few rule breakers once in a while seemed like it would take our mind off our parents. Unfortunately, we were assigned to a factory. One that fixed satellites._

_Our first day was horrendous. The instructors were strict and imposing and our heart always picked up speed when they set their black eyes on us. Also our parents' disappearing act was quite known among the residents, so we were always the_

_target of gossip._

_We avoided everyone, but always kept a keen eye on a certain fellow with shiny_

_dark hair, green eyes, and a goofy grin, who seemed to be obsessed with whistling._

_Everyone around them was always sullen and stone-faced, but they had a certain air _

_around them that we couldn't help but be intrigued by._

_They were different. And we appreciated that._

_Of course there was Scott, who sneered at us when they caught us looking at them._

_After that they would always keep us company "Hey, it's the orphan!" "Uh, yeah, your _

_parents _are_dead, genius." "Well if they're not dead then where are they? In Jail?"_

_It drove us insane._

_One day, they said, "Hey, orphan! Oh wait, you said your parents were alive right?_

_Probably in the slammer." _

_We drop our wrench and whirl around. "Leave us alone. Go back to your station."_

_Our voice failed to sound imposing._

_Their eyes narrow. "Better watch that mouth of yours. Else you might join your _

_criminal parents."_

_"__Hey Scott!"_

_To our surprise, the boy saunters over to us, their usual grin absent. "Here," they flick _

_a coin at Scott. "Go buy a hint. They told you to leave them alone."_

_Scott just smirks at them. "Why do you care? Are they your girlfriend?"_

_Thankfully they are too preoccupied to see our face turn red. The boy scoffs. "Everyone here is tired of your crap. Go be a jerk somewhere else."_

_Scott steps closer to them. "Are you prepared to make us?" they ask in a deadly voice._

_The two stare each other down for a few seconds, seemingly forgetting that we exist._

_After what seemed like an eternity, an instructor comes over and orders Scott back to their station. After one last glare at their opponent, they stalk away, and Patch begins working next to us._

_"__You didn't have to do that," we tell them, softly._

_"_Someone _needed to say something. That boy's missing a screw," they glance at us._

_"__And it's not the one in the satellite."_

_An uncontrollable laugh busts out before we can stop it. Patch stares at us in astonishment._

_"__We just got you to laugh!" they spread their arms out. "My day is complete."_

_Apparently still not in control of our actions, we subtly thwack them on the arm, and they chuckle._

_"__Our name is Patch, by the way."_

_After a seconds hesitation, we say, "Kiana."_

**End Flashback**

They never, ever, mentioned anything about being able to fight.

The battle drags on, neither one giving an inch. Berry and we glance at each other from time to time, each of us begging the other to do _something_. Of course we don't want Patch to die, but for some reason, the thought of Dylan dying makes us sick, too. Shouting or running between them is out. And our arm also prevented us from doing anything. Speaking of our arm, it's killing us. The worse the stinging gets, the louder we hiss in pain.

"Do you hear that?" Berry says, rising slightly to gaze around the trees.

"Hear what?" Then, we hear it. A faint rustling coming from the trees. We dart around frantically, but all we see are the trees, swaying slightly in the wind.

"Run!" We both jump at the sound of Grimalkin's voice. Quick as lightning, they dart up a tree. Something is coming! Hide, quickly!"

We look back at Patch and Dylan, still engaged in combat. The atmosphere has dimmed some, and we look at the sky, to find that it's blanketed in silver. Actually, everything starts to fade into a white background that seems to be coming up from the ground.

_White_.

In the barely visible grass, we spot small black pods scattered on the ground. Similar to the ones we'd seen at the party.

"Berry!" we yell. "They found us!"

Their is a shriek, a sickening thud, and Berry falls to the ground, unconscious. But it's not the gas that knocks them out. The gas seems to work as a cloaking device, and has a sickeningly sweet scent that makes it hard to focus. Patch and Dylan finally break apart, aware that something is wrong, but it's too late. Black figures surround them and pummel them to the ground until they have disappeared under the black sea.

Several other black figures have now surrounded us, and one reaches for our face. We lash out at them with our foot, but they catch it easily, while their partner struck us across the head.

Already affected by the gas designed to disorient us, the last thought we have is troubling:_The White Kingdom's uniforms aren't black._

XXX

We wake up with a pounding headache.

Strapped to a metal table, staring at a white ceiling. It seems like some high-tech headquarters. We realize we must be in some underground base.

Even more disturbing, our arm is healed. Only a long red scar signifies that it was ever there.

_Did they-? How? Why?_

We now noticed that we are in some sort of lab, and not the chemistry, the technology kind. Hearing a slow, steady beeping and turn our head to see that we are connected to a machine that shows our heartbeat. That would explain the annoying patches attached to our body. Then a horrifying memory resurfaces. What happened to Patch, Dylan, and Berry? Are they being held captive like us?

Our response comes in the form of voices from another room. "Did you bring her?"

Someone says something we don't catch, and the door opens, revealing a man, at least six feet tall, in their forties, next to who we assume is their female assistant.

They were dressed in the same black uniform we saw before, an their assistant is draped in a white coat. But the most shocking thing of all, is that the man is a brunette and the woman is blonde.

Where are we?

"According to our soldiers, this one is mildly hostile, so we subdued her, and they took care of her companions easy enough." The woman's words freeze our blood.

The man approached us immediately, and boomed. "Are you Kiana 2-7180?" their voice is loud and imposing, and we shrink away from them. The man looms over us, piercing blue eyes penetrating our skull. "Answer me, girl, are you Kiana 2-7180, sixteen-year-old resident of Tan Hills?"

"Yes," we answer, fighting to keep our voice steady. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

The to exchange glances, then the man speaks, " I am Aaron, and this is one of my assistants, Shira. You're here because my king has requested your presence."

"King?" Okay, so these guys definitely didn't work for the White Kingdom.

"You're from the city, so you wouldn't understand," Shira scoffed. "King Max, the unquestioned leader of Paradise."

_Paradise?_

It's like our entire body has been paralyzed. Never in our entire life had we heard of a place called Paradise. How could that be possible? We were taught at school about the wars and everything, everything, that had been part of forming Equality. No one ever said anything about Paradise. We scan our brain for answers, when it hits us. _This must be the city outside of the government's control. The one Grim was talking about._

_It-it's real._

"What do they want with us?

"That's for us to know, and you to find out," Aaron states. "However, the wise choice would be to come quietly, if you want to see your sister again."

"Michelle?!" we jerk up, but the restraints hold us back. The two's expressions turn smug, knowing they've hit a bull's eye. "Where are they? What have you done to them?!"

"Cooperate, and all your questions will be answered," Shira says, smugly.

The last thing we want to do is cooperate with these people, but if it's at the cost of finding Michelle and maybe the others, it's a risk we have to take. Reluctantly, we nod,

and the woman slowly undoes the latches, allowing us to sit up and stretch our sore limbs. Once we are off the bed, they tie a rope around our wrists, binding them.

"Hey!" we exclaim. "What-"

"You didn't think we were just going to let you roam freely, did you?" Aaron scoffs.

"We know how deceitful you teenagers can be."

We glare at them, but Aaron ignores us and turns to Shira. "Ready the submarine."

_Submarine?_

As Shira turns to leave, the lights in the room turn red, accompanied by an ear- piercing beeping sound.

"Intruders!" Aaron bellows, their voice blended with the sound of shouting and running footsteps.

As soon as Aaron says it, an arrow whizzes by our heads and lodges into the wall. We turn and our expression turns shocked.

Berry and Patch stand there, Patch with their daggers, and Berry has already reloaded another arrow into their bow. How they learned archery so fast, we've no idea.

"Whoa," Patch says, duplicating our expression. "A brunette and a blonde together?" they say to Berry, who looks just as shocked. "The world must be ending."

Aaron pulls out a gun. "Drop the weapons. Now!"

Both Berry and Patch look uncertain, still with their weapons up.

"Drop them, now!" Aaron roars.

Just as our companions begin to slowly lower their weapons, we kick them behind the

leg as hard as we can. They scream in pain, dropping the gun. Just as we leap for it, Shira slams us against the wall, hands locked around our throat. We only get a glimps of their fury filled face before we hear a _chink_. Shira screams, and we push them off us. They sprawl onto the ground, arrow jammed into their leg.

Breathless, we look up at Berry. "When did you learn archery?"

Berry scowls. "Dylan taught us. We didn't want to learn anything from them, but we knew we had to if we were going to save you."

In spite of whats happening, we crack a smile. "Thanks."

Something grabs our leg, and we cry out, seeing Aaron still on the floor.

"You're not- going anywhere," the grind out. "You'll burn this country alive if you-" _Crack!_ Patch's well aimed kick to the head knocks Aaron out.

We look back up at them, horrified. "What did they mean by-"

"No time for that, Kiwi," Patch and Berry hurry us out the door and down the hall, where it sounds like a fight is going on- wait, what?

"What did you call us?!" We ask, indignant.

Patch and Berry smirk. "We thought of it on the way here," Berry says. "Cute, right?"

Since we have no use of our arms, we can't slap either of them.

We turn a corner and see Dylan knock a gun out of a guard's hand and roundhouse kick them in the head. They fall to the ground, and Dylan raises their sword.

"No!" We run over to them, "Don't kill them!"

Dylan stares at us for a second, conflicting emotions crossing their face. Then, they turn us around and bring down their sword. We let a cry escape, but then we hear the rope fall to the ground. Our hands are free.

"Let's just get out of here," they sheath their sword.

"Wait!" We say, stopping them from leaving. "They know about Michelle! They'll take

us to them-"

"You really think they'll just give you what you want?" Dylan snorts. They grab our wrist. "Hesitate now, and we all die."

Before anyone can react, a coil wraps itself around our leg and yanks us off our feet. Then Dylan is struck by a club on the side of the head, and falls to the ground. Before they can even try to get up, Aaron stomps their huge boot on their back with brute force. Berry and Patch try to help, but are restrained by guards. Or Berry was, before Shira comes out of nowhere and tackles them to the ground, clutching the bloody arrow and aiming it at their chest, teeth clenched in fury. Aaron points a gun at our face.

We figured out one thing. "You won't shoot us."

They smirk. "No. But if you keep resisting we won't hesitate to kill your friends."

We look around at our captured comrades, and our heart sinks in utter despair.

Grimalkin hops onto one of the guards holding Patch, and sinks their teeth into their neck. The guard screams, and Patch elbows the other one, and grabs their heads and slams them together. As the two crumple to the ground, Aaron swings their gun and fires, but Patch ducks and kicks the gun out of their hand. They dive for it, and Aaron twists Patch's wrist away, causing them to cry out. But Aaron forgot about Dylan, who rolls off the floor and kicks Aaron's hand, causing them to release Patch. Aaron kicks Dylan in the ribs hard, which knocks the breath out of them, but with Patch's help, they both restrain Aaron.

"Stop!" Shira presses the point of the arrow to Berry's chest, though not enough to draw blood. "Let him go or I kill her," they hiss.

Grim jumps onto their face and claws it, leaving three bright red marks. Shira shreiks in pain and stands, trying to pry the cat off them. They finally do get off when Patch grabs their ponytail and yanks them to the floor, knocking them out. After Dylan takes out the guard restraining us and frees us, Patch points it at Aaron, still on the ground.

"Where's our sister?" we demand, breathlessly.

They sneer up at us. "I already told you she is being held in Paradise."

"And where is that?" Patch asks, still pointing the gun at them.

Now, they smile sinisterly. "Across the ocean. Without our help, you'll never reach it."

At that, Dylan strikes them across the face with the hilt of the sword, sending them into darkness.

We should be glad we won, but all we feel is sorrow and hopelessness. Michelle is all the way across the ocean. And without these guys, how would we get there?

"Time to go," Patch drags our lifeless body down the hall. "We're leaving, before more security shows up."

Grim trots beside us. "Idiot. I told you not to provoke the lieutenant."

"Can't talk, running!" We tear past Grim as the sounds of pursuit become relevant. "Red herring! Pretty boy! Come on!" Berry drags Dylan behind us, Dylan clutching their middle. We wonder if Patch can feel the glares they are sending their way. We continue to navigate the base until we come across a huge metal door at the end of a hallway.

Taking that as our way out, we make a mad dash for the big door, and press the bright red button, allowing us access into the outside, which seems to be the end of a cavern.

Patch turns and sees the advancing guards, but the doors shut behind us. "That won't hold them!" They shout.

"This will," Dylan grunts, "Keep going!"

We all run until we reach the very end of the cavern. Then, we turn and see Dylan smashing the keypad with the hilt of their sword. It takes a while for us to figure out their trying to make the system brake so the door will stay closed. It continues until we hear the pounding of fists against the steel door.

We are safe.

Then Dylan drops the sword and collapses onto the ground.

Berry and Patch hold us back as we rush forward. "Whoa, there, kiwi," Patch says, much to our fury. "What are you doing? Pretty boy over there is the enemy. We don't help the enemy."

"That guy kicked them in the ribs. They're hurt."

"They'll live," Berry sneered in the golden boy's direction. "Let's just leave. Like Patch said, they're the enemy."

"According to the law, you are, too!" We shout, startling Berry. "And you saved our life. You expect us to leave you if you were hurt?"

Our words render Berry silent, but Patch is still going. "Look ki-" they stop when they notice our deadly glare. "Kiana. Dylan was really just helping you so they could bring you to Commander Carla. If they have someone from Chaston's city, they're at an advantage. If they weren't hurt, they'd be trying to kill both us and Berry."

"What do you expect us to do?" We demand. "Leave them there?!"

"They're in their own territory. Nothing will happen to them."

We glare at the two. "You both are as bad as the Commanders," we leave them with their shocked expressions, and go to assist Dylan. We hear Patch call out, "Fine. We'll help the son of Commander Carla, who would stick their sword in our ribs at first chance."

We don't really get. The White Kingdom says we're all the same, but the cities generally don't like each other.

"We wouldn't worry about that," Dylan mutters, slowly rising to their feet. With one arm around their middle, they use the other to raise their sword. "We could could continue now."

"Gladly," Patch grins, pulling their daggers, "This won't take long at all." Patch steps forward, but we shove them back.

"Stop it!" we hiss, glaring at the two. "Enough already! Dylan, your too injured to fight, and Patch, shame on you, trying to duel them when they're hurt. Sit down and shut up."

Berry laughs, and the two glare at them, before slowly lowering their weapons. A sneezing laugh comes out of nowhere, and Grimalkin grins from atop a tree. Patch shrugs and plops down on a log, crossing their legs. Berry sits in the grass, examining the arrows in their bag. It kind of makes us nervous. Ignoring them both, we walk up to Dylan. Their eyes narrow, and they tense, raising their sword, but the new revelation about Michelle has eradicated any real fear we have.

"Dylan," We murmur, looking dead into their sea green eyes. "We are willing to make a deal."

Surprise plasters their face.

"We need your help," we continue, "the reason those people had multiple hair colors, is because they're from a place called Paradise. We aren't sure what that is, but their leader is someone called King Max. Do you know who that is?"

"King Max?" they inquire. "Never heard of them. Nor this place called Paradise. If it really exists, it could mean trouble for the whole country. All three commanders plus the White Kingdom will want to know about this."

"We need to find it," we say, determination lacing our voice. "They have our sister. We need you to help us escape Golden Hills and find it."

They raise an eyebrow. "And why would we do that?" their voice is not mocking. It is dead serious.

We swallow hard. "You're injured," we point out. "You can't take us by force. Not with Patch so eager to stick you." We glance back at Patch and Berry, guilt flooding our insides. But it has to be done. "Here's our bargain. If you help us find our sister and get them safely home, we'll go with you to Golden Hills. Without a fight, from us or Patch." Or Berry with those arrows.

Dylan's eyes shimmer. "They mean that much to you? You would exchange your freedom for their safety?"

Images flash through our mind of Michelle 4-3193, their carefree nature so unfit for this harsh reality. That's why we always coddled them. We won't stop now.

"Yes," we say without hesitation. "Do we have a deal?"

They stare at us for a while, before saying, "No, Kiana. We have a contract."

"Good," our legs suddenly feel like jello. We back away, needing to sit down before we fall over. "And no trying to hurt our friends either."

"That wasn't part of the bargain," they grimace, falling to their knees, holding their middle. Blood trickles between their lips.

"Guys!" We call, turning to glare at the two. "Get over here and help!"

Berry looks uncertainly at Patch, who perks up. "Oh, we're playing nice, now?" They look back at Berry. "How delightful."

"Patch!" we yell, exasperatedly, and Dylan raises their head.

"Let's call a truce, for now," they grit out. "There's a house a few miles east of here. We're familiar with the woman who lives there. They'll keep us safe. We'll postpone the duel until we arrive. Unless you want to start now."

"Nah, we can wait,"Patch shoves the dagger in their boot and hops off the log. With Berry's help, they roughly yank the boy to their feet. Dylan grunts and purses their lips, but doesn't cry out. Berry and Patch ignore our glare.

"Off we go," Patch chirps. "You coming, Grim?"

"Definitely," Grim lands on the grass with a soft thump. Their golden amusement filled eyes, regard us knowingly. "I would not miss this for the world."

**End of Chapter nine**

A/N: **Pretty revealing chapter, huh? Stay tuned for more!**


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